Irresistible
by apiegohome
Summary: In his wildest dreams, Ventus never imagined that a handsome, mysterious stranger would walk into the café he worked at one evening and change his life forever. What he doesn't know is that the man is after something – and he'll do anything to get what he wants... VanVen. Vamp fic.
1. Chapter 1

Don't roll your eyes at the Vampire theme – every writer has to do at least one, it's like a rite of passage. This was supposed to be a one shot, but like usual with my stories, it grew into a monster! Enjoy :)

* * *

 **Chapter One.**

Ventus had been on the arse end of his working week the night something out of the ordinary finally happened. It was just after 9 o'clock at night and he was tired, his hair was a sweaty mess, and he'd changed his waiter apron twice in the last hour due to clumsily spilling steamed milk all down the front of it. It was one of _those_ shifts. The kind where you're pretending to clean down the coffee machine, or restock the take away cups, but really, you're just mindlessly looking busy while you wait for the minute hand on the clock to come around. He still had an hour to go till close, and frankly, Ventus was just _done._

He was crouched down on the floor by the immaculately clean coffee machine scrolling through his Facebook feed when he heard the distinctive sound of the automatic doors opening, signalling a new customer entering.

Knowing it took people usually at least 30 seconds to amble their way over to the cash register, Ventus kept scrolling. He quickly finished up the article he'd been reading before promptly straightening and turning to face the rest of the café front, only to find said customer standing directly in front of him.

"Whoa!" He couldn't help his small shout of surprise as his eyes were immediately accosted with a sharply dressed man, his suit impeccable – black, with a silken dark blue tie. But that wasn't what had captured his attention. Under a thatch of stylised jet black hair was a handsome, youthful face, and the most intense eyes Ventus had ever seen. They were like liquid gold.

Ventus wasn't sure if he'd been staring for long, but the man had surely noticed his attention, his lips quirking into a knowing smirk.

"H-Hi! Sorry about that, what can I get you?" Ventus rushed out, hoping his cheeks weren't colouring with his embarrassment at being caught ogling.

The man just smiled. "Just an espresso. Thanks." His voice was deep and rich - one, Ventus found he liked immensely.

"Sure," Ventus heard himself replying, tearing his eyes away from the man's penetrative gaze. He stepped off to the side and grabbed up one of the group handles of the coffee machine. He flicked some of the already ground coffee out of the grinder and into the double headed portafilter and tamped the aromatic grounds in. He'd been making coffees for so long he could've done this in his sleep.

There was soft music playing in the background of the café, but Ventus still felt like striking up a conversation. Although this wasn't a small town, it wasn't particularly large either, and it was rare to see someone he didn't know come in here.

"I haven't seen you around before," he stated the obvious. "Are you just here for work, or…?"

The dark haired man was standing impossibly still, one hand clutching a smooth leather bound journal. "I've just taken a temporary position at Hall & Blades round the corner from here. I'm filling a vacancy for a month or two."

Ventus nodded, his eyes flicking back over the counter, minutely meeting the other man's. "Would you like this to go, or would you like to have here?"

There was a short pause, Ventus standing with the ready to go group handle poised under the coffee machine group head, getting more and more lost in this handsome stranger's captivating eyes.

"Have here is fine," the man answered, not moving to break their eye contact in the slightest.

Ventus drew in a quick breath and shifted his attention, his hands busily working to lock the group handle into the coffee machine, place a small ceramic cup underneath, and press the button for a strong double shot of espresso.

He knew of Hall & Blades, he always got a few of their workers coming through in the morning. It was a prestigious accounting firm that mostly looked after the books of large companies. This man was obviously intelligent. That, and wealthy. _That easily explains the suit then…_

"Do you travel a lot for work then?" He asked, readying a small saucer and a small dark chocolate covered almond to accompany the espresso.

The man across from him finally shifted, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Yeah, it keeps things interesting. I don't like to stay in one place for too long."

The coffee machine finished generating its aromatic, liquid goodness and fell silent between them. Ventus was just about to ask the customer to take a seat somewhere when the man unexpectedly spoke again.

"That, and I'm looking for someone."

Ventus' interest was piqued. "Someone, as in a friend or something?"

He placed the espresso cup down between them, shifting two sugar sachets onto the side of the saucer neatly. He looked up to meet the man's eyes once more, only to find the man was gazing intently at his moving hands. Those golden eyes lazily dragged all the way up one of Ventus' arms, roved over his neck and lips before once more gazing into his ocean blue eyes.

Ventus felt his heart beating faster at the casual scrutiny, his eyes flicking downwards to the man's almost playful, flirtatious smirk.

"…Or something."

Was it just him, or was the air between them suddenly charged? Ventus bit the inside of his lip, and slowly pushed the little cup forward. "That'll be three-fifty."

The dark haired man wordlessly handed over a five-dollar bill, Ventus taking the note and ringing it through the register with slightly trembling fingers. He felt weirdly lightheaded and unbelievably turned on. This man was like dynamite and the attraction he felt was racing wild through his veins. He felt like something was going to happen, something powerful drawing him in – like an unsuspecting moth to a flame.

The man said nothing more, pinning Ventus with one last, long look before picking up his espresso and moving over towards the couches at the front of the café.

The spell broken, Ventus let out a shaky breath he didn't realise he'd been holding, and quickly busied himself with cleaning the coffee machine.

He tried to not look so much but his eyes were continuously drawn to the sight of the other man, now lounging comfortably over by the large glass windows. The man had one arm up along the back of the lounge, his hand supporting his chin as he quietly took in the street outside the window. The black leather bound journal sat close to his thigh. There were a few people bustling past the café, and a steady flow of traffic for this time of night as people were all headed home or out for weekend drinks. It was a Friday after all. Ventus idly wondered what this handsome stranger was doing on his own, drinking coffee at 9.30 at night when he could be out with work colleagues or even on a date with some lucky girl. He found himself doubting that last thought, what with the way he'd just been looked at, it was more than likely the man would rather be out with another young man.

He finished cleaning up the coffee machine, everything back in its place, neat and tidy. A quick glance at the man by the window revealed that he was still comfortably seated there, his gaze still directed out towards the darkened street. The espresso cup sat neatly on the small coffee table in front of him. It was empty.

Ventus dried his hands on a nearby tea towel before straightening his apron and walking around the counter towards the only customer in the café. The man on the lounge didn't look round at his approach, his eyes still resolutely fixed to the world outside.

"Was there anything else you needed?" Ventus asked, now standing beside the small coffee table, bending down slightly to retrieve the empty cup. He looked up, finding the man's eyes reflected in the plated glass of the window, but they weren't looking outside, and for a brief second, Ventus realised they probably never had been. They were staring straight into his.

Ventus jumped, not anticipating the man's intense stare, the small espresso cup slipping fluidly through his fingers, and shattering loudly all over the floor. Chunks and shards of ceramic skittered under the nearby tables and chairs.

"Damn it," Ventus cursed. He certainly had the other man's attention now as he hastily crouched down amongst the remnants of the cup and began gathering up the largest pieces.

"Wait, let me help you with that," he heard from above him, his senses immediately hijacked by the handsome stranger now crouching down beside him and helping to gather up more of the broken shards littering the floor.

"It's okay, you don't have t – _ah!_ " Ventus broke off with a small cry of surprised pain. In his haste to stop the man from helping clean up his mistake, he'd grabbed at one of the larger pieces in his hand, a long, shallow cut now running across his palm. Instantly, the cut was welling and overflowing with dark, crimson blood. Ventus didn't notice the man going still beside him.

"Damn it…!" Ventus swiftly got to his feet and dropped the rest of the pieces back onto the floor, droplets of red spattering onto the shattered ceramic and tiles around him. More blood was now pooling in the centre of his palm, his other hand cradling the injury, pain lazily shooting up his arm.

"A-B…" Ventus thought he heard the man beside him murmur quietly, then was momentarily caught by surprise when the stranger's hands moved to gently encircle his. They were as cold as ice.

"W-What?"

The man's hands tightened around his, effectively holding him in place; Ventus' pain filled eyes meeting with golden ones that burned with an inner fire.

"Quick, do you have a first aid kit here?" The man said, snapping Ventus back to the problem at hand.

"Yes, behind the counter…"

The man pulled him forward, manoeuvring him over towards the couch. "Sit."

Still cradling his injured hand, Ventus did as he was told, the man swiftly moving back over towards the counter at the back of the café, and methodically searched the shelving underneath. He was back beside Ventus in seconds, unzipping the small green pack on the coffee table in front of them and pulling out cotton wool balls, disinfectant and medical gauze.

The man worked quickly, staunching the flow of blood by pressing firmly into the cut with some of the cotton wool balls. Ventus hissed at the pressure, the stranger only smiling slightly in answer, his cold fingers keeping the cotton in place while his other hand held Ventus' hand steady. For such a small cut there was a lot of blood, the cotton already soaked right through, staining the man's fingertips red.

"Sorry about all of this," Ventus mumbled quietly. "It's been one of those days."

The man removed the soaked cotton balls from Ventus' palm and immediately replaced them with clean ones, his fingers pressing them in firmly again, collecting the new traces of blood weeping there. Ventus winced.

"Technically if I hadn't come in here you wouldn't be bleeding right now, so consider this my penance."

Ventus laughed. "It was bound to have happened sooner or later; I've been dropping things all day."

Their eyes locked once again, but for some reason Ventus felt a lot more relaxed. He was still terribly aware of how close the other man was sitting beside him so maybe he was just feeling faint from the blood loss? Surely not, but something had definitely changed between them, almost like some sort of shared understanding.

It oddly felt like they'd met before…

The man smiled warmly, his cool hands still cradling Ventus' injured one. "I'm Vanitas, by the way."

"I'm Ventus, but I usually go by Ven. It's nice to meet you," Ventus answered, his heart speeding up a couple of beats. First name basis _definitely_ meant something. He was already hoping that this wouldn't be his only encounter with this devilishly handsome, young man.

Vanitas' golden eyes shifted away from Ventus for a moment, his thoughtful expression suggesting he was contemplating something. His mind made up, he returned to look searchingly into Ventus' expectant eyes. "Look, I was just on my way home, but would you like to have a few drinks with me? There's a place not far from here."

Ventus couldn't hide his surprise, but a millisecond later he was immediately nodding his head. "I – Yeah! That would be great. Just let me close up and we can go."

Vanitas shifted just that little bit closer, and flashed the best smile Ventus had seen yet. He was hooked. This was certainly turning out to be an unusual shift, but Ventus was no longer complaining.

-0-

Vanitas disinfected his cut, expertly wound the medical gauze securely around his palm, and then waited patiently while Ventus ran around like a bridesmaid trying to catch the bouquet – frantically checking everything was ready for the morning shift, flicking off lights and appliances as he went. He had everything done in near record time, removing his apron and straightening his black button down dress shirt and pants, before grabbing his keys and phone from underneath the counter. As he followed Vanitas outside he hopelessly tried to fix his hair in the window, but already knew he was fighting a losing battle. He felt a tad bit self-conscious next to the impeccably well-dressed Vanitas, but at least he wasn't heavily underdressed. He looked decent enough for a few quiet drinks.

Ventus fell into step with his new companion, Vanitas leading him two blocks down the street to a small, tasteful bar called _The Blue Moon._ Ventus being more of a homebody or a house party kind of guy didn't really go out on the town very often, but was pleasantly surprised all the same to find that he was comfortable here. The bar was lit with soft, warm lighting, some hipster looking musician playing soulful notes on an old brass saxophone. Ventus wondered if Vanitas was a regular here. It seemed to suit his disposition perfectly.

They had been talking for a little over an hour now, Ventus nursing his second bourbon and coke in his uninjured hand, while Vanitas was taking it easy with a seemingly endless supply of scotch on the rocks. Ventus was captivated by the illustrious Vanitas, the enchanting young man sharing some of his travelling stories from over the years. Ventus couldn't believe Vanitas was only 28, what with all the places he'd visited around the world, and the companies he'd worked for, it almost seemed like Vanitas had lived at least ten different lifetimes. Ventus felt his 26 years of living and working in the same town were sorely lacking in comparison.

"I'm honestly having a hard time here trying to picture you in diving gear," Ventus chuckled, lifting the tumbler of bourbon up to his lips, Vanitas describing a job he'd taken where he'd been diving to collect pearls.

Vanitas threw back his head and laughed, a warm, caramel rich sound Ventus was quickly getting accustomed to hearing. Vanitas was so attractive – so intelligent and interesting, Ventus felt like he could listen to the sound of his voice forever.

"It wasn't exactly flattering, I assure you, but it was paying the bills at the time, so it was good enough."

"Have you always travelled so much? Doesn't your family miss you?" Ventus asked, his fingers sliding through the condensation on the outside of his glass.

Vanitas gave him a small smile. "Ah, my family and I don't get along very well. Never have. So having the freedom to be in any one place at any given time has always worked for me."

"Oh…" Ventus felt like he'd stepped on a landmine, but Vanitas immediately seeing his change in expression waved his concern away.

"My family and I are just an odd bunch of people…too many strong personalities and all that. We get along better when we're not seeing each other."

Ventus could understand that. "I guess my families' the opposite to yours then – we're a tightknit bunch. My mum and dad only live a half's hour drive away from me. My younger brother is close by, too."

"Let me guess – you're a bible basher, too?" Vanitas teased, the ice in his glass clinking lightly together.

Now it was Ventus' turn to laugh. "Well, not exactly. I mean, my parents still go to church regularly, but I definitely don't. I don't believe in all that judgemental, brainwashing crap, but for the sake of my parents I just keep my opinions to myself."

Vanitas nodded, his heated gaze peering over the rim of his glass at Ventus as he took a long, slow drink. Ventus didn't need to ask in order to figure out that Vanitas wasn't overly religious either. Ventus had been around certain people where his opinion on religion had discomforted them and Vanitas was anything but. They were sitting so closely together at the bar that their shoulders were touching. Ventus lazily thrilled in the contact, the alcohol buzzing through his veins already, courtesy of drinking on an empty stomach.

"Do you think you'll ever travel away from here, and see the world?" Vanitas questioned, his tone light and playful.

Ventus thought about it. "…Maybe just for a holiday, but it'll be a while till I can move away from here, if ever. My dad's sick, so my mum really needs me around at the moment. I completed a dual degree in archaeology and anthropology almost three years ago now, but there's no work for me here. I'm grounded, working an entry level job making coffee. _Believe me,_ I wish things were different."

Calm, serious eyes observed him. "It sounds like this is pretty hard on you, too, having to put your life on the back burner."

Ventus tried not to feel guilty, but Vanitas spoke the truth. "It is hard, but it's harder on my parents."

"You mentioned a brother, I guess he works in town, as well?"

"Yeah, Roxas is studying to be a nurse, loves saving lives and all that. He's comfortable here," Ventus smiled into his glass, lightly rubbing his shoulder against Vanitas'. "He's younger though, only fresh out of school. More freedom, less responsibility."

Vanitas remained silent for the moment, signalled to the waitress behind the bar that they wanted another round.

"How long is your contract with Hall & Blades? …Are you staying here long?" Ventus hoped he was being subtle in moving the topic to safer territory. It wasn't his intention to bring down the mood. For all he knew Vanitas was just being polite. He surely didn't need to hear Ventus' entire life story.

The waitress chose that moment to place two new drinks in front of them, Ventus draining his glass and eagerly taking up its replacement. Despite their conversation taking a serious turn he was feeling good. It had been a while since he'd had a chance to just unwind and enjoy a few drinks.

"I'm only here for three months, and then I'm not sure where I'll head to, next. I _could_ stay longer…depends on if there's anything here worth staying longer for."

Vanitas looked over at him, his eyes heavy with meaning. Ventus was thrilled. Regardless of whether Vanitas stayed or not, three months was a good enough amount of time for a little fun…

Ventus leaned closer. "Well I guess I'll have to keep your interest piqued. I wouldn't want you running off on me now."

Vanitas breathed out a laugh, causing a small shiver to race up Ventus' spine. He idly noticed a small, gold earring peeking out from underneath the Vanitas' silken, jet black hair.

"So – Ventus, I've kept you out long enough. Won't your girlfriend be wondering where you've gotten to?" Vanitas leaned closer. Ventus could smell the whiskey on his breath.

"Maybe if I had one…" he murmured in response, abandoning his drink and leaning in too.

"Your boyfriend then," Vanitas breathed onto his lips. It wasn't really a question and they both knew it.

"Would that really have stopped you…?" Ventus whispered, one of Vanitas' hands sliding slowly up his spine and into his hair.

Vanitas grinned wickedly; pressing his lips to Ventus' slightly parted ones. Ventus shivered in anticipation, before tilting his head slightly, and slid his tongue inside Vanitas' mouth. Vanitas was ready for him, his own tongue meeting Ventus halfway, lazily and sensuously sliding them together.

Ventus moaned. He couldn't help himself. Everything felt _so good_ and the things Vanitas was doing with his tongue were perfectly sinful. He felt like his nerves were charged and electrified, his uninjured hand sliding teasingly up Vanitas' thigh. Ventus reluctantly broke the kiss, his breath already reduced to small gasps. His head was spinning. Golden eyes imbued with lust burned into darkened blue.

"It's pretty late." Vanitas' wicked mouth brushed over Ventus' cheek and pressed deliciously close to his ear. "I'm getting tired of sitting here when I should _really_ be fucking you into the nearest wall right now."

A bolt of white, hot desire shot straight to Ventus' groin, Vanitas' words conjuring the most pleasurable of fantasies. He turned his head, bringing their lips into close contact once more, his tone of voice heavy with longing. "We better get out of here then."

-0-

Vanitas' apartment was a ten-minute cab ride away from the bar, but as soon as the vehicle had pulled away from the curb, they hadn't wasted any time in getting their hands all over each other. Ventus was halfway into straddling Vanitas' lap – desperate for more sensation as Vanitas' sensuously simulated what he was going to do to him later with his tongue, hands and hips. It was all a blur of touching, tasting and _feeling,_ Ventus brain' melting into blissful goo. Not even the exasperated taxi driver's faint, " _Hey…_ " could bring them back to reality.

Ventus vaguely remembered the cab stopping, a cool hand leading him along confidently, and then he was being slammed up against the wall of an elevator, a toned thigh pressing and rubbing between his legs. Ventus gasped, Vanitas greedily kissing him, his fingers fisting into Ventus' hair.

" _Oh, God…"_ Ventus moaned, the elevator doors sliding open for what only seemed mere seconds later, Vanitas once again taking up his uninjured hand. There was the sound of keys turning in a lock, and then _finally_ they had arrived.

Vanitas growled lustfully and pulled Ventus roughly against him, his lips and tongue sliding down Ventus' neck. Ventus whimpered, his hands moving underneath Vanitas' suit jacket, and grasping hard at the fabric of the shirt underneath. He pulled sharply, freeing the shirt from where it was tucked fast beneath Vanitas' pants, his hands wanting nothing more than to slide over his new lover's deliciously smooth skin.

It was only when Vanitas began unbuttoning his black dress shirt that the fog Ventus' brain seemed to have happily sunk into, started to lift. He couldn't shake that nagging thought in the back of his mind, that in reality he had just finished an eight-hour shift, some three hours ago, and was now currently a whole lot of _unclean._ He knew he wouldn't smell, per se, but there was no way in _hell_ he was getting this far with the gorgeous Vanitas, only to have him irrevocably _turned off_ by his personal hygiene.

"Van-Vanitas – wait."

Vanitas' hands hesitated unclasping Ventus' shirt buttons, his face lifting away from his neck and up towards Ventus' suddenly apprehensive expression.

"I want to take a shower," Ventus whispered, leaning forward to capture Vanitas' lips once more. Vanitas groaned into Ventus' mouth, but said nothing more, faintly nodding his understanding before almost bodily dragging Ventus further into his apartment.

Ventus was led into a breathlessly stylish, modern bathroom – floor to ceiling black tiles and a large open shower. A single glass pane separated it from the rest of the room's amenities. Vanitas stalked over towards the shower and turned it on. The water heated up within seconds, already billowing out warm, inviting steam.

Vanitas reached for Ventus, swiftly pulling him back into his arms. "I can't wait," he murmured against Ventus' lips, kissing him hungrily, his hands already moving to unbutton the rest of Ventus' shirt.

They undressed hurriedly, desperate hands pulling off shirts, wrestling with belt buckles and suit pants. Ventus' fingers skirted up the perfectly sculpted muscles of Vanitas' back as Vanitas dragged them bodily against each other.

Ventus felt like he was going crazy with need. Vanitas pulled him under the heated spray of the shower, and pushed him roughly up against the tiled wall. Ventus gasped and moaned, the difference in temperature between the steaming water, and the still cool tiles slightly disorientating his senses.

Vanitas' hands were everywhere, roaming over Ventus' heaving chest, and sliding down his waist to drag his nails slowly across his lower back, ultimately exploring further down. Ventus whimpered at the intimate caress to the sensitive skin between his cheeks, Vanitas sensuously sucking and biting along his neck and shoulder.

"I confess…the moment I saw you, I had to have you…" Vanitas breathed into Ventus' ear, one of his hands purposely caressing along Ventus' hardened length. Ventus arched into the touch, the heated temperature of the water, and the warmth of the other man's fingers around his erection making it almost impossible for him to form a coherent response. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of Vanitas' dampened hair, and dragged the man's enticing lips back to connect with his.

There was a long moment where Ventus was completely lost to the heady sensation of their lips just pressing and tasting, his quiet gasps for air reverberating over the bathroom's tiles. Vanitas briefly pulled away, biting at Ventus' lower lip before blindly reaching for a bottle of body wash sitting on a small shelf embedded into the wall beside them. He popped the cap and poured a generous amount into the palm of his hand, then immediately began lathering the soap over Ventus' shoulders and back. He sought Ventus' moistened lips again, his tongue moving teasingly slow as his hands worked the scented liquid all over Ventus' body.

Ventus had never been washed by someone else before, and found the experience amazingly erotic; Vanitas' hands were sliding everywhere, rubbing at his sensitive nipples, over his shoulders and down his arms, massaging between his cheeks, and over his aching erection.

He encouraged Vanitas' fingers to slip inside of him, wanting _so badly_ to feel that penetration – desperate to feel even more. Vanitas swiftly obliged, using the body wash as lubrication, and pressed two fingers into Ventus' tight entrance. He rhythmically moved them in deep, then pulled them all the way out.

Ventus moaned breathlessly and ground his head back against the tiled wall, his eyes squeezing shut at the overload of pleasurable sensations. He pulled Vanitas in closer still and wrapped a hand around their straining erections, stroking them in time to Vanitas' thrusting fingers.

It wasn't long before Ventus couldn't take much more. He turned his back to Vanitas, and slightly bent over at the waist, bracing his arms up against the cool shower wall. Vanitas didn't falter in his movements; his fingers pushing in deeper still, making Ventus shudder and groan.

"Do you trust me…?" Vanitas whispered into Ventus' ear. He abruptly removed his fingers, but returned them moments later, more of the body wash pooled in the palm of his hand. He generously massaged more of the liquid inside and out, pressing open mouthed kisses along the nape of Ventus' neck.

Ventus thought over Vanitas' quiet words and was surprised to find that he did indeed trust him. They may not have known each other for long, but there was just something about Vanitas that set his mind at ease – as if somehow, something unseen was connecting them together…

He nodded wordlessly and spread his legs further apart, Vanitas covering Ventus' body with his own; his hard length nestled enticingly between Ventus' cheeks.

"I want you to feel all of me…" Vanitas braced himself over Ventus and _slowly_ eased his way in.

Ventus gasped for breath, trying to adjust to the suddenly larger intrusion. His spine arched further as an irrepressible moan escaped his swollen lips. His hands clawed reflexively against the slick black tiles, trying to find purchase. The bandage still wrapped around his injured hand was soaked through. Vanitas' hands tightly grasped Ventus' hips as he smoothly slid all the way in to the hilt. There was a moment's pause, Ventus hungrily relishing the euphoric feeling of being so _perfectly_ full. Without further warning, Vanitas swiftly pulled all the way out, leaving just the head of his cock still inside, before roughly shoving his way back in. Ventus' fingernails scraped along the tiled wall in front of him, gasping for breath as Vanitas immediately set a furious pace, slamming into Ventus without restraint – over, and _over_.

 _God,_ it was _so deep,_ and Ventus had been _craving_ this feeling for so long – the blissful sensation of being filled, the almost painful stretch of his ass, and the rough, wild movements of Vanitas leaning over him, fucking him so hard and fast.

Vanitas groaned on every one of his forceful thrusts inside, one of his hands hurriedly pushing Ventus' back down lower, changing the angle, and sliding in just that little bit deeper.

That spot inside Ventus was being repeatedly struck, again and again, with every wicked plunge of Vanitas' hips. He was finding it near impossible to stifle his increasingly louder cries and moans – so lost in the intense pleasure that was undulating through his body.

" _Ah…! Van-Vani…tas…!"_ He was so close – that electrifying, familiar pressure building deep inside of him.

Vanitas drove in harder, one of his hands sliding around Ventus' hip to pump him in time with his thrusts. It was all _too good,_ and Ventus just _couldn't_ take it anymore.

He felt his orgasm racing along his veins seconds later, overwhelming his senses completely, and leaving him boneless and gasping for air. Wave after wave of pulsing sensation shook Ventus' frame as Vanitas leaned into him, his hand still stroking out Ventus' release.

Ventus suddenly jerked and gasped out in shock, a sharp pain at his neck bringing him swiftly back down to Earth. He tried to speak, to ask Vanitas what had just happened, only to find his mind curiously falling blank. It was almost instantaneous – like shutters being dropped over a window. His eyes slid closed, and his head lolled on his shoulders as a new pleasurable feeling lazily hummed its way through his body. He felt amazing – as if he was floating in a dream.

If Ventus had managed to open his eyes again – to break free of Vanitas' alluring charm, he might have started to panic at the sight of his own blood, flowing in small, pink rivulets down over his damp chest and legs. But he felt so warm, and safe, and satisfied – he wasn't aware of anything feeling wrong or different at all.

The last thing that filtered through the fog of his mind was the sound of Vanitas finally reaching his own completion. Ventus sighed and smiled contentedly; sinking further and further into blissful oblivion.

-0-

Ventus woke up slowly, sluggishly noting the soft pillow cushioning his face and the slip of cool, smooth sheets against his bare legs. Wherever he was, it was so quiet; the faintest hum of an air conditioner just managing to filter through, into his hazy senses.

He blinked open his eyes and stretched languidly, a twinge of pain in his hand rapidly bringing him further into consciousness. He blearily brought his right hand up to his face, immediately noticing the fresh white bandage wrapped around his palm and suddenly, the rest of his memories flooded in.

Vanitas.

He'd cut his hand at the café, and he'd met a handsome stranger called Vanitas. They'd gone for some spontaneous drinks, and then made their way back to the other man's apartment. He remembered the amazing sex, and instantly felt a slight ache along his hips, from where Vanitas had held him. Bizarrely, the left side of his neck was aching, too. He smoothed a hand over his throat and upper shoulder, tenderly pressing into the unmarred skin where it hurt the most. It was _so sore;_ but for the life of him, he could only remember Vanitas pressing kisses there.

Ventus' body trembled lightly as he rose into a sitting position. His head faintly throbbed and the room spun. He rarely drank these days and never nearly as much as last night. He knew he was going to pay for it today – especially with having his last night shift of the week lined up for the evening. He silently took in the spacious bedroom he was currently sleeping in, remembering nothing of how he'd gotten there. The room was huge and tasteful, if not sparsely decorated. There was a walk in wardrobe to his right, then in the wall directly across from him, but just a little to his right, was a door leading out to the rest of the apartment. To his left was a small coffee table and two plush chairs, and through the thin, floor to ceiling sheer curtains, he could faintly make out what looked to be a large, sheltered balcony. Ventus had only ever seen such extravagance in movies. Sure, Vanitas was still quite young, but he was obviously highly educated and fairly wealthy. Ventus' own apartment, on the decent side of town wasn't a _dump,_ per se, but it was definitely not on this level…

He surmised Vanitas must be renting this place for a ridiculously exorbitant amount, since he really was just a blow in, only slated to stay in town for three or so months. Just thinking of the beautiful man leaving made Ventus' heart thud painfully. He'd spent such limited time with him, but already he wasn't looking forward to their eventual separation. He vowed to make the most of it, whatever the outcome.

But, now that he thought about it…maybe that was all just wishful thinking. He _was_ waking up alone, after all. Perhaps it really had just been a one-night stand? Ventus gazed across the large, expanse of the bed, confirming for himself that it was indeed very empty, save for himself being in it. He shifted himself over to one side of the bed and swung his legs down onto the floor. His head spun dizzily from his sudden movement. He braced himself against his knees and cradled his head woefully. Man, he felt terrible – weak and disorientated. He was never going to drink on an empty stomach again!

Raising his head and taking in the white bandage across his palm once more, Ventus couldn't help but smile. It had been sopping wet in the shower last night so at some point after he'd passed out, Vanitas must have changed it for him. Remembering what they'd done in the shower made a small shiver race through him. It had been _amazing –_ so amazing in fact, that he'd gone and completely blacked out. How mortifying. He couldn't ever remember doing that from sex before. He clenched his hand, testing his reflexes and found that it really wasn't so painful anymore. If he ever managed to see Vanitas again he'd have to thank him for looking after him.

The two bedside tables flanking the bed were solid black in colour, and that's how Ventus caught sight of the glaringly obvious, white piece of notebook paper resting on the one closest to him. He drew in an excited breath as he reached for it, his eyes darting over the inked words written there:

' _Ventus, I didn't want to wake you, but I had to get to work early this morning. Don't rush, and help yourself to anything you find in the kitchen. Call me when you get a chance – Vanitas.'_

The note was so casual and yet, Ventus felt like the grin on his face was splitting his cheeks. Vanitas wanted to see him again! He flumped back down onto the bed, his fingers still loosely clutching at the note. He didn't care if his head was still faintly spinning, and that he had the urge to roll around on the bed like a sixteen-year-old girl. _God damn_ , but he was happy.

With some effort involved, Ventus managed to get himself up on shaky legs and back into the shower. As soon as he uncapped the body wash and caught its fragrance, his mind swiftly filled with colourful images and sensations of greedy lips pressing into his own, and large hands gripping at his hips, tight. He moaned quietly at the thought. There really was no denying that he and Vanitas had shared some truly _electric_ chemistry.

Grabbing a nearby towel, he dried himself quickly before reluctantly pulling his clothes back on from the night before. It made him feel gross putting dirty clothes on when he himself was newly clean, but he knew he really didn't have a choice right now. It certainly wasn't a usual habit of his, and besides, he'd be home soon anyway.

Ventus rubbed the damp towel over the fogged up mirror, clearing the condensation, and carefully scrutinised the still aching side of his neck. A faint purplish bruise had formed there, but surely not large enough to warrant such deep pain. He gently probed the area with his fingers, finding the sorest part at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Vanitas must have bitten down _really_ hard. He was surprised he hadn't broken the skin.

Taking Vanitas' advice, Ventus made his way through the apartment and out into the kitchen. The refrigerator was what he'd expected – the shelves were practically bare. There was a tub of expensive looking butter, some eggs, and a random bunch of broccolini, which looked like it was a bit past it. Being a bachelor himself, Ventus could definitely relate. The eggs were promising, but he honestly didn't feel like cooking right now, his head still feeling like a revolving restaurant. The pantry didn't have much to offer either. On the kitchen counter he spied a neat, brown paper bag, and to his delight found it held two wonderfully fresh looking blueberry muffins. He gave a small shrug, grabbed one out and took a bite. It tasted as good as it looked, too!

He'd kind of been suspecting the note Vanitas had left was just for appearances sake, and they really had just shared a one-night stand, but now the delicious muffins were helping change his mind.

Vanitas obviously cared enough – he had re-bandaged Ventus' hand, left a note with his number, _and_ having discovered that his current food staples were lacking – had supplied him with breakfast. Ventus really hoped that Vanitas was just as keen to meet again as he was.

Ventus finished off the muffin on his way to the door, locating his shoes there, and making a last minute check that he had his wallet, keys and phone on him before calling a taxi.

The ride in the cab over to his workplace was uneventful – definitely not like the _last_ time he'd been in one. He blankly stared out at the passing scenery, replaying the previous night's events over and over. Vanitas swabbing his injured hand, Vanitas' shoulder brushing against his, Vanitas' alluring golden eyes peering over the rim of his glass…

There was so much to remember, and Ventus just couldn't stop thinking about it. Yes, it had been a while since he'd had a serious interest in someone, _and_ definitely even longer since he'd gone home with someone he didn't really know, but that didn't really excuse the fact that he was feeling positively head over heels for a perfect stranger. It was stupid and cliché to call it love at first sight – so he _wouldn't,_ and he wasn't exactly some inexperienced teenager anymore, but something about Vanitas had really resonated with him.

Arriving outside the café, Ventus paid the taxi driver and walked over towards his parked car. It was nearing 10 o'clock in the morning and he could already feel the heat of the day getting to him. He still felt so sluggish and exhausted, even if the dizziness he'd felt earlier had finally subsided. Maybe he was getting sick? It seemed odd that he would feel so drained when he really only had a couple of drinks.

He weaved his way home carefully, negotiating the rushed, morning traffic, and cranking the aircon to full blast. The radio was mentioning something about a record breaking heatwave, and Ventus didn't doubt it for a second. For the life of him, he could never remember summer being this hot before.

He sighed in relief when he finally, _finally_ nudged his car into his garage. There was just nothing he wanted to do more than to take off his dirty clothes and get back into bed. Nightshift was going to kill him if he didn't get a bit more sleep. Ventus kicked off his shoes, and threw his keys down on the kitchen counter before immediately making his way to his bedroom. His hands were already pulling off his soiled work shirt and pants, haphazardly throwing them to the floor.

He flicked on the ceiling fan and set it to high before flumping back onto his bed, his arms splayed wide. His phone was still in his hand. He wanted to call Vanitas, he really did, but he honestly didn't feel up to a conversation right now. He wanted to sound flirty and sexy – not tired and grumpy. A text just seemed too…uninterested.

Ventus rolled over and settled himself on his side, his fingers flicking over his phone's screen and keying in an alarm for the afternoon. It was lucky he didn't have anything to get done today because he certainly wasn't going to do it! His eyelids were already drooping.

He fell asleep with his phone still clutched tightly in his hand.

-0-

Ventus was three hours into his shift, and the five o'clock evening rush was just beginning. Time was positively dragging. Who knew so many people would want to drink coffee after work?

As soon as he'd arrived at the little café he'd smashed a triple shot flat white and finally felt some semblance of refreshed. He'd easily slept soundly for the entire day – possibly too well really, since he'd woken up to find that his alarm had been chiming for quite some time, and now only had 20 minutes left to get to work. There'd been a mad rush to get himself together, but he'd made it on time – _just_ , and now the only thing he had left to worry about was the fact that he hadn't had time to call Vanitas.

Against his better judgement he'd sent the other man a rushed, impersonal text message – explaining in minute detail that he'd overslept and was late to work, but that he would call on his half hour break. Vanitas was yet to reply, which had Ventus wondering all over again if the phone number on the note had actually been real or not, and if in actual fact, Vanitas wasn't interested in seeing him again, after all.

Six o'clock rolled around and the constant stream of customers had finally let up. The heat of the day was finally dissipating as well, the street lights outside flickering on one by one. The café was still quietly abuzz with the conversations of various small groups of patrons, but it wasn't anything that Ventus couldn't handle on his own. The waitress helping him had already left, having asked to go home early.

Ventus was restocking the coffee station, stacking cups and mugs up on the warmer, when he felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket. It was most likely Roxas, but his mind instantly leapt to Vanitas. Maybe if he got everything done quickly he could manage to sneak out the back for a few minutes and make a call. He was removing a tray of latte glasses from the glass washer when from out of the corner of his eye, he saw a new customer entering the café. He turned with the tray of glasses in hand and nearly dropped them, his startled blue eyes meeting with piercing, liquid gold. Vanitas looked as handsome as ever, once again immaculately dressed in a black suit, and his tie a deep, rich red.

Ventus smacked the glasses down on the bench a bit too forcefully, and tried not to grin like an idiot. Damn it, he was supposed to be playing it cool, but he just couldn't hide his happiness and relief.

Vanitas smiled in return, already weaving his way through occupied tables and chairs to where Ventus was waiting for him.

"Hey," Ventus said casually, his fingers playing idly with a latte glass handle.

"Hey," Vanitas' murmured smoothly, his expression turning faintly apologetic, "I got your message, but I've been stuck in video conferences all afternoon. I was going to call, but I thought it would be easier to just come in and see you."

"I think you just couldn't wait to see me again," Ventus teased, his smile wide and flirtatious.

Vanitas just laughed. "Maybe I really came in just to watch you get all flustered and drop coffee cups around me again."

" _My_ , aren't we modest today," Ventus threw back in answer.

Vanitas lowered his voice further, his wicked smile firmly in place. "Well, I guess I didn't do a good enough job last night then…" He leaned forwards slightly, his fingers lightly trailing over the back of Ventus' hand still clutching at one of the latte glasses. Ventus felt the lingering touch and his fingers twitched in response. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Vanitas' entrancing gaze. Just hearing Vanitas mentioning their night together had his heart beating just that little bit faster.

Ventus leaned closer as well, his words heavy with meaning. "Hmm, my memory seems to be a little hazy – I think you might have to try again."

Vanitas' eyes darkened, rising to the challenge. "Do you finish at ten?"

Ventus nodded. Vanitas didn't say anything more. He grabbed up a small pad of paper that was sitting beside the cash register, and slid a sleek, golden pen from out of his breast pocket. He scribbled a few lines down before ripping the piece of paper off and handing it to Ventus.

"I have a few things to take care of, but here's my address." His devilish smirk was pure sin. "I'd love to have you for dinner."

The true meaning behind Vanitas' words weren't lost on Ventus, as he quickly scanned the note before shoving it deep into the confines of his pocket. He looked long and hard into Vanitas' eyes and poured as much as his own desire into his answering stare.

"Can't wait – I'm feeling hungry already."

"You have _no_ idea," Vanitas growled.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I had a fair bit I wanted to squeeze into this chapter and I apologise if it seems like the story moves along too quickly. I hope no one (everyone lol?) isn't too out of character. Who the hell do you pair Eraqus with? Hence Larxene's Somebody representing Ventus' mother. Random? Yes. And I know Vanitas is coming across as a really nice guy…but wait for it…

* * *

 **Chapter Two.**

Ventus jumped slightly in surprise as he was pulled back against a firm chest; two strong, familiar arms wrapping tight around his waist. It was a humid Sunday night and Ventus was slowly stirring some sautéed onions in a frying pan – he and Vanitas spending a lazy evening over at the latter's air-conditioned apartment.

"I didn't even hear you come in," Ventus laughed, sinking back further into his lover's warm embrace. Vanitas hummed thoughtfully and pressed lingering, open mouthed kisses along his neck. "Can I help you with anything?" He murmured against Ventus' skin, his hands slowly sliding up Ventus' chest.

Ventus had been dating Vanitas for just over three weeks now, and it had been anything _but_ dull or boring. Vanitas was intoxicating, his appetite for Ventus virtually insatiable. They'd spent their first week together in various states of undress, opting to get to know each other better in between intensely pleasurable sessions of touching, kissing, and _feeling._ They just couldn't seem to keep their hands off of each other.

"No, it shouldn't take long. I'm no gourmet, but pasta is pretty easy," Ventus answered shakily, Vanitas' fingers rubbing teasingly slow over his nipples, and his wicked mouth sucking at the soft skin behind his ear. Ventus tried to focus, but already his attention was wavering.

"Can you leave out the garlic? It gives me a stomach ache," Vanitas breathed into his ear. He rubbed his hips forward, grinding himself against Ventus' ass. Ventus couldn't stifle his moan.

He could feel without seeing Vanitas' knowing grin pressed into his shoulder as purposeful fingers started unbuttoning the front of his pants. His body was already reacting, his heart beat quickening and Vanitas' wandering hands leaving him gasping for breath.

"…What about dinner…?" He heard himself asking, even though he already couldn't have cared less about anything else except the irresistible man standing close behind him.

Vanitas wordlessly reached forward and turned off the stove top, his other hand pulling at Ventus' pants and letting them fall to the kitchen floor.

Ventus moaned louder, his resolve to continue preparing dinner all but gone – his anticipation of what was to come, taking over.

-0-

Vanitas eventually helped Ventus finish making the pasta; Ventus still slightly unsteady on his legs after Vanitas had taken him without restraint, bending him roughly over the kitchen counter. Ventus had come so hard and fast he'd seen stars.

Hours later found them curled up on the couch in the living room, content and comfortable and just talking quietly with some over the top action film playing softly in the background. Ventus always had Sunday and Monday's off work, but Vanitas worked a normal Monday to Friday roster. They were enjoying the time they had while it lasted, Vanitas stretched out over the full length of the couch while Ventus lay sprawled half on top of him on his side, one arm thrown over Vanitas' chest.

Their conversation lulled into a comfortable silence, Ventus feeling a little sleepy, and completely relaxed in his lover's arms. He was half paying attention to the movie on the television, but mostly just enjoying the sound of Vanitas' methodical breathing and the constant rise and fall of his well defined chest. A small sigh of contentment breathed past his lips and he squeezed Vanitas against him – just that little bit closer.

Almost three years ago now, Ventus had been a month away from finishing his dual degree at university when his father had been diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumour. As a family they had tackled the problem of Eraqus' deteriorating health together, and over the next couple of years they helped support him through countless radiation therapy treatments, and several surgical operations; but no matter how many times he went under the knife the tumour always, _always_ grew back. When he finally realised that his father wasn't going to win, Ventus made the difficult, but dutiful decision to put his career goals on hold, and stayed in town to be close to his family. Working in a café wasn't even remotely that bad, but it really wasn't what he'd imagined himself doing by the time he was 26. His father had come to terms with it and accepted his fate, but that hadn't made it any easier on the rest of them. Ventus had been feeling increasingly burnt out by the hopelessness of it all, but now, just lying here with Vanitas, he couldn't remember a time where he'd felt lighter.

"… _entus…"_

"…Ventus."

Ventus shook himself out of his thoughts, Vanitas' voice only just filtering through. "Mm, sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was going to get some water; do you want anything?" Vanitas replied, threading one of his hands through Ventus' unruly hair.

Ventus leaned into the soothing touch, but shook his head slowly. "No, I'm good." He sat up to let Vanitas stand; Vanitas doing so, but not before pressing a small, spontaneous kiss to Ventus' unsuspecting lips.

Ventus smiled as he watched Vanitas disappear into the kitchen, the sound of the tap running shortly after.

"Hey, you know?" He began casually, "You don't need to call me Ventus. Ven is just fine."

Vanitas returned from the kitchen, his glass of water firmly in hand. As soon as he turned the corner his eyes immediately sought Ventus out. "I like your name the way it is. Latin is a beautiful language."

"Yeah, but the only ones who really calls me Ventus are my parents," Ventus laughed as Vanitas sat back down beside him. Vanitas turned to him and paused for a moment, considering.

"Ven…" He said softly.

Ventus felt goosebumps instantly rise all along his forearms, and he couldn't help the stupid grin plastered across his face. There was just something in the way Vanitas said his name that just made him ridiculously happy.

"…tus," Vanitas continued, and Ventus promptly burst out laughing.

"Okay, okay," he acquiesced, his laughter dying down. "You can call me Ventus, if you want." He leaned forwards to join their lips together, Vanitas returning his grin and pulling him in closer.

On the television in front of them, the movie paused for a local news update; a well-dressed, heavily made up woman recapping the day's headlines.

" _Heatwave continuing…record breaking temperatures…three elderly women found dead in their homes…"_ Photos of the three elderly women flashed across the screen. " _Heat stroke being the cause of their deaths…not treated as suspicious…"_

"It _has_ been incredibly hot these last couple of weeks," Ventus commented, taking a small sip from Vanitas' glass of water. "I think that makes five deaths from heat stroke since the beginning of the month…"

"Lucky there hasn't been any children…" Vanitas murmured, his eyes far away and slightly unfocussed. Ventus didn't notice.

"Yeah, that's true – and it's not even summer yet. I think I'm going to be over here a lot!" Ventus' hadn't even considered air-conditioning when he'd started renting his place, but now he was sorely regretting it. Lately, it seemed like the heat had been affecting him, too. Some days he was so tired and exhausted, and for no good reason. Maybe he was getting a bit run down…

Luckily Vanitas' apartment was fully ducted, and always perfectly cool.

"Oh, so you're just over here for the air-con, then?" Vanitas teased, a small smirk playing about his lips.

Ventus stayed deceptively casual. "And the sex – can't forget about the sex."

Vanitas growled playfully in answer, sliding one hand behind Ventus' neck and tugging him forwards into a rough kiss. Ventus quickly got lost in it, hungrily pressing closer and shoving his tongue past Vanitas' lips. _God,_ Vanitas' taste was addictive _._

"What are you going to do when I leave in a couple of months?" Vanitas breathed onto his lips, instantly causing Ventus to sigh and pull away.

"Don't say that, Van, I don't want to think about that," he groaned, flumping back against the couch cushions.

Vanitas silently leaned over and kissed him on the lips again, his eyes serious and resolute. "You should really think about coming with me. You're too smart to be wasting away in this little town."

Ventus sighed, giving his lover a small smile. "Who knows…maybe I won't be able to resist."

-0-

It was late, and Ventus was looking forward to getting into bed and falling asleep wrapped tightly around Vanitas. They had barely spent a night apart since beginning their relationship, and Ventus idly realised that he was so comfortable with Vanitas that he almost couldn't remember a time when they _hadn't_ been together. He didn't really have a large circle of friends, and it usually took him a while to warm up to new people, so he was pleasantly surprised with how easily he felt for Vanitas. It was a somewhat strange feeling with how _familiar_ it was, but welcome all the same.

Finishing his shower and pulling on some sweatpants and an old t-shirt, Ventus stepped out into the main bedroom to find the room empty. He didn't have long to wonder though, as his attention was caught by the soft billowing of the sheer curtains that concealed the open doorway leading out to the balcony.

The night was still so warm, but had cooled considerably, compared to the blistering heat of the day. Vanitas had both forearms rested against the balcony railing and was gazing upwards, faint noises of cars passing and people conversing floating upwards from the street below. He was shirtless and his pants were riding low on his hips, the warm breeze ruffling his hair. Ventus drank in the expanse of Vanitas' toned back and the sculpted muscles of his arms. He couldn't help but run his fingers down Vanitas' spine as he came up to stand beside him, his eyes instantly drawn upwards as well.

The night sky was truly beautiful. The collective lights of the town washed a few of the stars out of sight but luckily for them, as far as light pollution went, the little town really didn't do much damage. The stars were still so spectacular, it made Ventus feel a little overwhelmed and small, but filled with this strange, wondrous joy all the same.

Not taking his eyes off of the sky, Ventus shifted closer to Vanitas, feeling the coolness of his skin seep through his thin t-shirt. He steeled himself. There was something he'd wanted to ask Vanitas for a few days now…

"I was wondering if you would like to come with me to my parent's for dinner one Sunday? It's something we do every now and then…just to catch up. Roxas will be there, too."

Vanitas said nothing at first, just pushed himself off of the railing and gently pulled Ventus into his arms. "You want me to meet your family?"

Ventus breathed out a small, nervous laugh. "Too soon?"

Vanitas pulled him in tighter, burying his nose in the soft hair behind Ventus' ear. "No, of course not. I'd love to meet them."

Ventus smiled happily against Vanitas' shoulder, his cheek pressed firmly into Vanitas' cool skin. "Sometimes you're so cold…" he commented offhandedly, Vanitas only further proving his point by slowly trailing an icy hand along Ventus' jawline.

"Would you like to warm me up…?" Vanitas murmured, his fingers tilting Ventus' lips upwards to meet his. They kissed slowly, Ventus' eyes slipping shut and his skin tingling everywhere they touched. He pressed in closer, wordlessly offering to share his body heat, Vanitas' fingers playing lightly with the waistband of his pants.

Vanitas broke the kiss moments later, his eyes burning down into Ventus' dazed blues.

"Look at the stars, Ventus…" He whispered against Ventus' lips, and Ventus silently obeyed, his mind already feeling strangely far away as Vanitas gently tilted his chin upwards and to the side.

The stars were as breathtaking as before, and it was all Ventus seemed to be able to focus on, Vanitas slowly sinking his teeth into the soft skin of his neck. Feeling the sting there, Ventus gasped sharply but was quickly swept away by Vanitas' glamour taking full control.

He felt lost and found all at once, and faintly out of breath. Distantly, he remembered this feeling as being familiar, but the shutters were falling over his mind now, and all he could see was the millions and billions of stars slowly spinning and glittering above him.

-0-

It was a Friday, and still so unbelievably hot at only 8.30 in the morning. Ventus found himself silently debating whether or not to ask the other man seated across from him if maybe – just a _little_ – could he _please_ have the air-conditioning cranked up a notch? He hadn't wanted to seem like a hypochondriac and unnecessarily worry Vanitas, but he'd gone to visit his local doctor on Monday with the unshakeable suspicion that something was clearly wrong with his health.

Monday morning had clinched it for him, really. He'd woken up later than usual, finding Vanitas had already left for work, and had felt _so dizzy_ and _weak_ , he'd barely been able to stand. These dizzy spells he'd been experiencing for the last couple of weeks had steadily grown worse – not to mention the inexplicable _bruising_ along his neck, as well as on his left wrist and lower abdomen. Work had been harder and harder to get through, an eight hour shift now seeming endless and completely exhausting. No, something was definitely wrong enough to warrant seeking professional advice, so he'd dragged himself out of bed as soon as he was able, and promptly drove over to his local medical centre.

Now, four days later, Ventus found himself seated in a tiny, white walled office, Doctor Wise sitting silently across from him perusing through his blood test results. The Doctor didn't look happy at all – if anything he looked slightly confused. Ventus was growing impatient. He still felt weary and ill, and could faintly hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. If it got any worse, he'd have to call in sick for his night shift.

"Nothing too serious," Doctor Wise finally began, "but your red blood cell count is unusually low. The results here are suggesting you are anaemic."

"Anaemic…?" Ventus repeated.

"Yes, as in your body has somehow been depleted of your healthy red blood cells, and you appear to be quite iron deficient as well. Most likely a contributing factor." Doctor Wise placed the results on the table in front of Ventus, his hands folding neatly together on the table top. Ventus looked over the numbers and medical jargon on the piece of paper in front of him, but not much of it was making any sense.

"Is this causing the random bruising as well…?"

The doctor's amber eyes were piercing when Ventus finally looked back up. "It is possible that this is all related. Have you been experiencing any sharp stomach pains, or passing darkish green, or reddish brown stools?"

Ventus balked. This is why he avoided going to the doctors….so many awkward, invasive questions.

"No, no sharp stomach pains, I think I'd remember something like that…and no to the strange stools."

Doctor Wise nodded, his eyes shifting up and to the left as his mind sifted through all the possible causes presenting themselves here. "What about your diet? Have you changed anything in your eating habits recently?"

"Not really," Ventus supplied, "I don't eat a lot of junk food, and I try to eat healthy usually…not much dairy…and I don't drink a lot of alcohol either…"

Doctor Wise hummed questioningly, his eyes still fixed on the wall to Ventus' left. "It almost seems like you have been losing blood somehow, but unless this is a regular occurrence I cannot really attribute your symptoms to that."

Ventus shook his head slowly. "I cut my hand at work a few weeks ago, but I didn't really lose a lot of blood."

The Doctor's eyes turned back to Ventus, his eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. "No, that would not be the cause; it would have had to have been a significant amount lost…and as for the bruising – it could be a sign that your blood is not clotting properly." He turned his attentions to his computer sitting off to the side and began typing rapidly. "I will have to send you back to the pathologist for a few more blood tests, just to be sure."

Ventus sighed inwardly and slouched a bit further down in his seat. He wasn't a fan of needles, but he was even less thrilled to be feeling so crappy. It was a necessary evil if he wanted to get better sooner, rather than later.

"What I _can_ give you, which should help you right away, would be an iron rich diet plan," Doctor Wise was saying. "It is simple enough; I will just going to print you out a list of foods I want you to integrate into your daily meals." There was more rapid typing, the man's eyes flicking over the screen before Ventus heard the sounds of a printer whirring from somewhere close by.

Doctor Wise swivelled in his chair and plucked a single sheet of paper out of the printer's output tray. He looked over it quickly before placing it in front of Ventus. "Any of these foods, in the amounts specified will help replenish your red blood cells back up to normal levels. Just make sure you are having at least three servings a day."

Ventus picked up the piece of paper and perused it silently. It was lucky he wasn't a fussy eater. Red meat was pretty standard, so were peas and broccoli, but lentils and tofu? Certainly not. He supposed it wouldn't do any harm to try them. "Thanks, Doctor. I'll start it today."

Doctor Wise nodded in answer, his attention drawn back to his computer screen as he rapidly clacked away at the keyboard again. The printer whirred back into life, and suddenly, another piece of paper was being pressed into Ventus' hand. It was a referral for the Pathologist, requesting a more complex blood test. "Just go first thing in the morning, before you have had anything to eat."

Glad to have some sort of solution in motion, Ventus folded the pieces of paper neatly and stood. He smiled down politely at the other man still seated in front of him. "Thanks again, Doctor. You've been a great help."

Doctor Wise easily returned his friendly smile. "Any time, Ventus. Just remember to come back in and see me if your condition worsens or the bruising becomes more prominent."

"I will," Ventus replied, his small, tired smile still firmly in place as he pulled the little consult room's door open, and then swiftly snapped it shut behind him.

-0-

He felt a little bad for doing it, but Ventus had decided to call in sick for his evening shift. He was currently sprawled out on his bed, with the covers thrown haphazardly to the side and nothing on, but a pair of dark blue boxers. His ceiling fan was on full bore and his bedroom windows open wide, and _still_ it was disgustingly hot. He felt feverish and so weak – there was no way he was enduring eight to nine hours standing on his feet at the café. He just hoped he felt better by tomorrow as Saturday always tended to be their busiest day of the week, and they definitely wouldn't be able to keep up with the demand without him. He groaned out loud, squeezing his eyes shut. Just the thought of scrambling to make quarter shot, decaf soy lattes was exhausting him more.

He'd sent a quick text message to Vanitas, just to let him know that he wouldn't be able to come over after work tonight. This elicited another heavy groan – but this one borne of disappointment. Vanitas had said he would make dinner for him and the man was an _amazing_ cook. He was sorely missing out.

Ventus had no idea how long he just lay there, his limbs heavy and sluggish and his heart still beating so rapidly in his chest. It was an uncomfortable feeling – as if he'd just run a marathon, and his head still swam every time he opened his eyes. He'd managed to drink some water but making himself something to eat was just out of the equation at present.

How the hell had he become anaemic? One of the first things he'd done on arriving home was to shove his phone in his face, and immediately ask 'Doctor Google' for answers and now, after scrolling through countless pages and websites devoted to the condition, he could veritably say he was an absolute expert on Anaemia. He'd looked through long lists of symptoms and read through all the varying types and causes and was coming up a complete blank as to what could be causing it. The only thing he was loathe to consider would be an internal problem and _really_ , that was all his family needed right now. Hopefully, once he got his strength up again, he could go eat a kilo of steak or something, and he'd feel right as rain again.

He faded in and out of consciousness as the day progressed, only moving to drag himself to the toilet or drink more water. Finally, as the day's sunlight was lazily fading into vivid oranges and pinks, Ventus was startled awake by a sudden dip in the bed beside him, and a cool touch caressing his cheek.

He blearily opened his eyes and looked up into stunning gold, his lips instantly lifting into an affectionate smile.

"Hey…"

"How are you feeling?" Vanitas murmured, his cool hand sliding slowly up into Ventus' hair.

Ventus stretched and shuffled closer. "I've been better, that's for sure."

Vanitas frowned, his mouth set into a hard line. "…I've been too hard on you."

Ventus breathed out a laugh and slowly brought himself up into a sitting position. "You haven't, honestly. I'm just a bit rundown."

He actually did feel a little better, the extra sleep seemingly working wonders. His head was no longer spinning at least, which was a small mercy. "I went to see a doctor today. He says I'm anaemic, but I don't see how that's possible. He couldn't even tell me what's causing it."

"That is strange…" Vanitas replied absently, his expression still concerned as his fingers tilted Ventus' head to the side so he could better examine the purplish, yellow bruise adorning his neck.

Ventus let him, feeling the slight painful strain of the muscles there. "And these bruises…I don't know what they're all about either."

Vanitas said nothing, just silently looked over the colourful bruise before releasing Ventus' chin and sitting back. Their eyes met once more and Vanitas smiled, his fingers tangling with Ventus' own, resting in the rumpled bed sheets between them. "You can't stay here in this heat. Get something on, I'm taking you home. I still want to cook you dinner, too."

Ventus smiled happily and leaned forwards to press a firm kiss to Vanitas' lips. "Don't think I'm a hypochondriac, or diseased or something, okay? I never get sick, usually."

Vanitas grinned in answer; his eyes alight with some private joke. "The thought never even crossed my mind. You are only human, after all."

-0-

Ventus was back to feeling like his old self. He'd been following the diet Doctor Wise had recommended almost religiously, and the bruises on his body had disappeared, as well. His neck still hurt from time to time, but it wasn't anything he was too worried about. He vaguely remembered lifting some heavy boxes at work and wondered if maybe he'd strained some muscles. Vanitas had been as supportive as ever – always cooking Ventus meals that were loaded with iron rich nutrients, Ventus' seemingly sporadic bouts of dizziness and weakness not bothering him in the slightest.

If it wasn't for the mind blowing sex all the time, Ventus would have compared himself and Vanitas to an aged, married couple. They did everything together, and had easily fallen into a comfortable routine. It was playing more and more on his mind as the days slowly slid by that Vanitas was somehow meant to be leaving him in a month or so. He had half convinced himself that surely the man that had come to mean so much to him would put his other plans on hold and be happy to stay, but Vanitas never so much as hinted at staying in town for longer, and it was a tense subject they never discussed. Ventus idly wondered if they were both in denial.

Ventus gasped moist, short breaths into Vanitas' neck, his fingers clutching for purchase against the wide expanse of Vanitas' back, as Vanitas slowly pushed into him. Vanitas rocked his hips forward and scraped his teeth along Ventus throat, the combined sensations pulling a needy moan past his lips. Almost on instinct, Ventus arched his neck sharply to the side; the movement feeling strangely practiced – an odd habit he couldn't remember ever acquiring.

Another thrust of Vanitas' hips and then there was that sharp pain at his neck again. Ventus whimpered and groaned, his eyes half-lidded and glazed, staring over Vanitas' shoulder at the ceiling above them. Why was it _so familiar?_ Some forgotten memory struggled to push forward as the long, _drawing_ sensation at his neck intensified, but then dissipated as quickly as it had begun, Vanitas pressing hot, wet kisses along the expanse of his throat, his tongue sliding along the shell of Ventus' ear.

"You're so hard to resist, Ventus…The taste of you…" Vanitas groaned, sliding his way out slowly before immediately thrusting back inside. "I've waited this long…I can't wait for much longer…"

Ventus heard Vanitas' quiet words and felt like he'd missed something important. " _What_ – what do you…?"

He was never able to finish his question, Vanitas capturing his lips and pushing his tongue deep into his mouth. Ventus gasped and moaned against Vanitas' wicked lips. He was conveniently distracted and _so very close_. He forgot all about his confusion and sharply focussed on the man's cock slamming repeatedly against that spot inside of him, that would make him scream.

Hours later, Ventus caught himself daydreaming out of the passenger side window of Vanitas' Benz with a bottle of red wine cradled in his lap. Vanitas, sated and silent beside him, navigated them through bustling traffic and dark, quiet streets alike as they made their way over to Ventus' parents place for dinner.

If he was going to be honest with himself, Ventus knew he was feeling a tad nervous about Vanitas meeting his family and not for the usual reasons either. His family meant everything to him, but Vanitas had very easily come to mean a lot to him, too, so what he was really hoping for tonight was an evening without complications.

Roxas, at times, had proven to be somewhat abrasive when it came to meeting Ventus' love interests, and very rarely liked any of them. Ventus just thought his younger brother's protective behaviour was slightly endearing. Being the older of the two, he often found himself getting overprotective as well…especially lately, when all Roxas seemed to want to talk about was some girl he'd met at the hospital. His parents were harmless enough, and Ventus knew they would be friendly, but he could never help feeling slightly embarrassed when his mother referred to 'Our Lord Jesus' so casually. Vanitas hadn't said much on the subject of religion, but from what he'd gathered he knew that his partner didn't waste much thought on such archaic beliefs.

Directing Vanitas into a softly lit, paved driveway, Ventus stepped out of the luxury sedan and looked over the familiar contours of his childhood home. Despite being fairly well off, his parents had never felt the need to move – opting to treasure their first home and its memories, over buying up bigger and better just to stroke their egos. Before his father had become sick he'd been successful in real estate, his mother also working part time at one of his father's branch offices. As his father's health had rapidly started to deteriorate he'd been forced to retire prematurely, and even though Ventus' mother still worked when she could, her main priorities these days had become the care and comfort of her ailing husband.

Ventus clutched the bottle of red wine tighter as he drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Vanitas made his way around the car towards him, reaching for his hand in the darkness.

"It'll be fine," Vanitas said, quirking an amused grin, before giving Ventus' hand a light, reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah…" Ventus returned Vanitas' sure expression, albeit a little tensely. "Just don't let all the Jesus references freak you out too much."

Ventus pulled Vanitas along by their still entwined hands, up the pathway towards the front door and steeled himself for the last time before letting them in.

"Mum? Dad?" He called through the entryway. He released Vanitas' hand and stepped inside, setting the bottle of wine down on a nearby table and already moving to pull off his shoes. Vanitas just stood at the doorway, waiting; his eyes looking past Ventus and further into the house.

"Ventus?" A sharp, female voice called in answer, Ventus' mother rounding a corner further down the hallway, and quickly hurrying to meet them. Ventus' mother was a thin, jolly looking woman with long, sunny blonde hair. She had laugh lines around her eyes and mouth that crinkled affectionately as her gaze fell upon her eldest son.

"You've arrived _right_ on time, I was just carving the lamb," she said cheerfully, gathering Ventus up into a welcoming hug. She pulled away and her eyes instantly fell upon Vanitas, her expression clearly showing her excitement. "And you must be Vanitas – Ventus has told us _so much_ about you – come in, _come in!"_

A relaxed smile broke over Vanitas' face as he finally stepped passed the threshold and into the house.

"Vanitas, this is my mother – Lareen; Mum, this is Vanitas," Ventus introduced them, Lareen already moving forward to pull Vanitas into a warm hug too.

"It's so great to finally meet you," she smiled, "May the Good Lord bless you and welcome you to our home."

Still locked in the smaller woman's embrace, Vanitas' face turned slightly ashen in colour, his lips twisting into a grimace. He instantly re-schooled his features into something more neutral, but not before Ventus had time to witness his reaction. Ventus just laughed. He knew his mother could be a bit full on at times.

Still smiling, Ventus firmly tugged at his mother's shoulder, gently encouraging her to let Vanitas go. "Mum…" he implored, his tone quietly exasperated.

"Oh, sorry! It's just been some time since you've brought someone home to meet us," Lareen chortled, stepping back just a little with her hands still clutching at Vanitas' upper arms.

" _Mum, please,_ " Ventus tried again, feeling the tips of his ears heat with embarrassment.

Vanitas grinned, his amused eyes finding Ventus' mortified blues. "Well, don't I feel special."

Lareen laughed delightedly and released her hold on Vanitas. She turned back to Ventus and pressed a small hand against his cheek. "And how are you? Are you still feeling unwell?"

Ventus shook his head, easing Lareen's suddenly worried expression with a reassuring smile. "No, I'm feeling a lot better." His eyes flicked to Vanitas. "Vanitas has been looking after me."

Lareen beamed. "Thank goodness. I was praying for you every day." Her hand fell away from Ventus' cheek as she turned and began making her way back down the hallway. "Your father and Roxas are in the dining room; go on through, and I'll be right there."

"Do you need any help?" Ventus called after her.

"No, no – everything's all ready. Go and introduce your friend."

"Friend?" Vanitas commented, standing alongside Ventus, one of his hands sliding between Ventus' shoulder blades.

"It's like I'm sixteen all over again," Ventus mumbled, grabbing up the bottle of wine and leading Vanitas further into the house. "Don't worry. Despite how much my parents bash the bible, they're very accepting of my, _er_ , lifestyle choices."

Vanitas said nothing, but smiled all the same and allowed Ventus to lead him through several doorways until they found themselves entering the dining room.

"Hey!" Roxas, Ventus' younger brother called in greeting, his face lighting up as Ventus entered the room, only to fall into a guarded frown seconds later at catching sight of Vanitas.

Roxas was sitting at a large, rectangular dining table which was already set and spread with various dishes, crockery and silverware. Sitting at the head of the table beside Roxas was his and Ventus' father. The man rose slowly as the two new arrivals approached, a warm smile gracing his lips.

"Always just scraping in, Ventus. One would think you lived light years away from us."

Ventus laughed, feeling a touch guilty at arriving late _again,_ but was quick to embrace the older man. "You know me, I'm always in daylight savings mode."

Stepping out of Eraqus' arms, Ventus turned to Vanitas. "Van, this is my father – Eraqus – ," he gestured to Roxas as well who had also moved to stand, "and this is Roxas, my younger brother."

"It's nice to meet you both," Vanitas murmured warmly, shaking Eraqus' outstretched hand and Roxas' hand in turn; the older man's smile still calm and gentle while Roxas' expression was now carefully blank. He gave Vanitas a sharp, assessing look, but offered a tight smile in welcome all the same. The appraisal wasn't lost on Vanitas, who simply quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

Eraqus shakily lowered himself back into his chair and sighed with relief, his expression easily showing his weariness. He was a thin man, the lines on his face well weathered and his dark hair was heavily streaked with grey. It wasn't so obvious by just looking at him, but the man clearly wasn't at his best.

Ventus pushed Vanitas into the seat opposite Roxas and beside Eraqus. He held up the bottle of red wine in his hand as he made his way towards the door that led to the kitchen. "I'll be right back; I'll just grab some glasses for this."

Throwing Vanitas one last, nervous smile, Ventus exited the dining room and made his way into the kitchen. Lareen was busy carving up the roast leg of lamb and placing the pieces into a deep serving dish. She looked up at his approach. "Nearly done! I left out the garlic, just like you asked."

Ventus set the bottle of wine down on the kitchen counter and reached for the cupboards above him that held the wine glasses. "Thanks mum. I don't want Vanitas getting sick."

Lareen continued to carve at the lamb, her green eyes sparkling as she smiled at Ventus. "We wouldn't want that. I just hope you've been doing better, too. I don't like hearing about you being sick…what with your father and all…" She stopped for a moment, staring off into space and the calm smile wavered a bit under the weight of her thoughts. Voices filtered in from the dining room next door.

"I'm really okay, Mum. You don't need to worry about me. Van has been really great," Ventus reassured her quietly. He opened one of the kitchen drawers and began rifling around for a bottle opener. "I feel like I've been waiting a long time to find someone that fits so well with me."

Finishing with the lamb, Lareen came over to stand beside her son. She threw open the third drawer from the top and easily located the bottle opener for him. She placed it in his open palm, her other hand coming up to clasp his between her two hands. "He seems very charming – and so handsome! I've been asking the Lord every day to help you find someone to love."

Ventus blinked rapidly and felt his skin prickle with warmth. "We haven't been dating long enough to call it that, Mum." He wasn't really a romantic – more of a realist. You didn't fall in love with someone after only dating for a month or so…

Lareen laughed – a strong, sharp sound. She released his hand and patted his cheek. "Well, we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?" She lifted the large serving dish with both hands and began making her way through to the dining room.

Ventus just shook his head and sighed out a long breath through his nose. It was going to be an interesting evening.

-0-

They had finished dinner and were now simply talking over their empty plates, Lareen and Eraqus getting to know Vanitas as much as they could within in an evening, as well as catching up on Roxas' training at the hospital and Ventus' work. They'd all but finished the wine as well, Lareen bustling in and out of the room removing the leftover dishes and setting the table for dessert.

"Xion's a year older than me and she's been helping me with the practical side of things a lot," Roxas was saying, his fingers playing with the stem of his wine glass. "We're usually always on the same shifts, too, and she's just…really smart and…yeah."

Ventus snorted, Roxas catching the noise immediately and shooting him a withering glare. "Oh yeah, yeah – laugh it up, Ven."

Ventus took in his brother's flustered expression and promptly threw back his head and laughed. It was so obvious that Roxas thought more of Xion than just her ability to do her job well.

"She sounds wonderful, Roxas. You'll have to bring her for dinner some time." Lareen gushed kindly, setting a large spoon and napkin down in front of him. Roxas said nothing, his face turning an even darker shade of pink.

"Have you had many people being admitted for heat stroke?" Eraqus murmured, his blue-grey eyes dark with concern, "There's been a lot of coverage lately on the local news; they are saying that this is the worst season we've had yet. Record breaking temperatures, and a large spike in heat related deaths…especially amongst the elderly…"

Roxas turned towards his father, "Not as many as you would think, but there does seem to be a high number of elderly falling victim to it. They're living alone and there's no one to check up on them. Their houses just get too hot, it's really tragic."

Lareen re-entered the room carrying a tray of individual chocolate puddings. "There was a young girl who recently passed away from it, too, wasn't there? Her _poor_ parents, something so preventable taking her so young." She shook her head sadly as she placed a pudding down in front of everyone at the table.

"It has been ridiculously hot lately. I can't remember it being like this last year." Ventus added, digging his spoon into the rich, cakey dessert. It was just like his father to bring up something so serious and morbid. Ventus couldn't really blame the man for letting his train of thought turn that way; obviously his fleeting mortality was weighing heavily on his mind.

Intent on changing the subject, Ventus looked over at his younger brother, only to find Roxas staring, eyes narrowed at Vanitas. His mouth was set into a hard line, his expression troubled and faintly confused. Vanitas was coolly staring back.

"You okay, Rox?" Ventus asked tentatively, looking back and forth between Roxas and Vanitas. Eraqus too, furrowed his eyebrows at his youngest son. It was over within a matter of seconds, but something had definitely gone on there, Roxas snapping out of his daze and turning his eyes to Ventus.

"Yeah…" he mumbled, his eyes flickering minutely back over to Vanitas before paying closer attention to his dessert.

Settling herself back at the table beside Roxas, Lareen noticed nothing amiss as she suddenly clapped her hands together, her eyes wide and excited. "I just had the best idea! I'll dig out Ventus's baby photos for Vanitas!"

Filing the strange exchange away for later, Ventus was quick to object, mumbling his words out from around a particularly large spoonful of pudding. "Ah, that's okay Mum, he doesn't want to see that."

"No, I'd love to see them," Vanitas smoothly interjected, his grin widening exponentially as he took in Ventus' pained expression.

"Great!" Lareen chirped happily, her dessert still untouched and forgotten for the moment. "I'll just go and get them; I know _exactly_ where they are." She stood from her seat and moved around the table to pull Vanitas out of his chair, too.

"Come on dear, we'll go sit in the lounge room. Ventus went through such a Star Wars phase when he was younger. He had a little storm trooper outfit and everything!"

Ventus wearily slid a hand down his face. " _Mum_ , come on…"

Completely ignoring her eldest son's pleading tone, Lareen was already pulling Vanitas by the arm into the adjoining lounge room. "You should have seen them when they were younger, Vanitas. Ventus and Roxas used to dress up all the time. I came home one day and they were both…"

Her voice trailed off as she rounded the corner; Vanitas' amused eyes locking with Ventus' agonized blues for a fraction of a second before he too disappeared into the lounge room.

Ventus huffed wearily, but smiled all the same. Unfortunately for him and Roxas both, this wasn't the first time his mother had joyfully trotted out their baby albums for unsuspecting guests. She especially loved showing any potential love interests they had brought home over the years, and Ventus knew once his mother got carried away with something, it was an effort in futility to change her mind.

At the head of the table, Eraqus shook his head and laughed softly. He smiled fondly at his two sons as he braced himself against the table and pushed himself to standing. "Will you boys clean up the kitchen for your mother? I'm sure she'd love that."

"Yeah, dad, we can do that," Roxas answered, his eyes locking with Ventus' and strangely intense. Ventus frowned at his brother's piercing expression but said nothing. It was almost like Roxas knew that he was going to try and get out of it. He was all too happy to help with the clean-up, honestly, but he still felt a little bit anxious about leaving Vanitas alone with his mother…

Still smiling calmly, Eraqus walked around the table on Roxas' side, one of his hands ruffling the teenager's unruly hair as he passed him. He retrieved Lareen's untouched pudding and her spoon before making his way towards the lounge room as well.

 _Great_ , Ventus thought. Now Vanitas was going to be alone with _both_ of his parents. He looked at Roxas again, still sitting on the opposite side of the table. "We better get to it then."

Roxas nodded, his eyes wandering over towards the chiffonier where a small, porcelain statue of the Virgin Mary stood, front and centre.

Ventus decided he'd help Roxas with the cleaning and then he and Vanitas could probably start making their way home. Maybe if he hurried, his mother wouldn't start on any of the albums with him as a teenager. As far as he was concerned, there were too many photos in there that should never see the light of day. Way back in his high school days he'd gone through _a lot_ of weird hairstyles…

If Vanitas saw them, he was sure to never hear the end of it.

Rising almost simultaneously from their chairs, Ventus and Roxas began clearing the table and taking the empty dishes, crockery and glasses into the kitchen. Roxas was bringing in the last of the pudding ramekins while Ventus was stacking the dishwasher when he suddenly smacked the little ceramic cups down on the bench and turned to Ventus.

"I don't like him."

Ventus groaned and rolled his eyes. He'd been half expecting this all night, ever since he'd walked in with Vanitas and seen Roxas' face. He knew his brother was tenacious, too; if it hadn't been tonight he'd voiced his unshakeable opinion, it would've been later on through text message.

"Come on, Rox; just get to know him a little better before you write him off."

Roxas was silent for a few moments. He leaned a hip against the kitchen bench and folded his arms. Ventus just kept situating dishes and pans inside the dishwasher. He _definitely_ didn't feel like washing up, so it was a game of ' _Dirty Dish Tetris'_ as he rearranged everything a few times to make sure it would all fit.

Roxas just watched; his expression faintly unsettled and his brows furrowed. Ventus waited. He knew that wouldn't be the end of it. Roxas was like a dog with a bone when it came down to something he didn't like – especially with people he felt were wasting Ventus' time.

Roxas' jaw worked wordlessly for a few moments until finally he spoke. "There's…There's something not right about him."

Ventus reached for another pan resting on the sink, his expression questioning as he gestured for Roxas to keep talking. "Like what?"

"All through dinner he kept shooting glares over at the Virgin on the chiffonier."

Ventus bristled. "He doesn't like religion – neither do I for that matter. There's nothing wrong with that."

Roxas huffed and thumped his lower back against the bench, his arms still folded. "There's a difference between disliking something and downright _despising_ it, Ven. You didn't see his eyes..."

Ventus slid the larger pan into the last spot in the bottom drawer before rattling the rack back inside the machine. "I'm sure he has his reasons. I think you're reading into it a bit too much."

"And when mum mentioned that little girl dying, he smiled. _He smiled,_ Ven."

Ventus froze, his hands going still on the dishwasher's controls. His eyes flickered up to meet Roxas' resolute blues and suddenly felt nauseous. He'd never seen him look so serious.

"No one else saw, but I did. And the way he did it…it was like he knew something we didn't, like a 'private joke' kind of smile. It was…creepy."

"Rox…" Ventus wearily interjected, but Roxas just shook his head, his quiet tone firm and imploring. "A few months is not a long enough time to know someone. I'm telling you now, Ven – "

Roxas suddenly broke off mid-sentence, his eyes snapping over towards the entryway to the dining room.

"Do you need any help in here?" Vanitas asked, moving to stand beside Ventus, one arm wrapping firmly around Ventus' waist. His eyes never left Roxas' stubborn gaze as his fingers tightened possessively in the fabric of Ventus' shirt.

Ventus wasn't one to blush, but he felt the heat creeping into his cheeks now, finding himself wholly embarrassed and mortified that Vanitas had walked in on the tail end of their conversation about him, no less.

Ventus collected himself and went to answer, but Roxas beat him to it.

"We're fine. We don't need your help."

Hearing the animosity in Roxas' tone, Vanitas didn't back down an inch, his lips quirking into a wry grin, his eyes cold and hard.

Ventus looked between Vanitas and his brother and sighed inwardly. He had a feeling something like this would happen, but knowing that, didn't make the current situation any easier. Roxas was infuriatingly infamous for this sort of behaviour and Ventus was willing to bet that he was simply overreacting. Why would Vanitas smile over a person's death? He probably hadn't even been following the conversation and was just caught thinking about something else.

"We're nearly done, but thanks for the offer. Has my mother finished embarrassing me already?" Ventus smiled up at Vanitas, who finally turned his attention away from Roxas and looked down at him, his expression softening.

"Oh, she's just about done. My favourite was of you sporting the 'gothic' look back in your last year of high school," Vanitas grinned cheekily. "Classic."

" _God_ ," Ventus groaned, his eyes lifting to the ceiling, "I didn't think she'd have time to get those out, as well!"

Vanitas laughed quietly and wrapped Ventus up in a crushing hug. Thoroughly unimpressed at the man's blatant PDA, Roxas' expression darkened before he mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'whatever' and promptly stalked out of the room.

"You're doing this on purpose aren't you?" Ventus dryly noted, Vanitas looking down at him with his arms still slung loosely around Ventus' waist. His face was the very picture of innocence. "Doing what, exactly?"

Ventus snorted, but grinned all the same. "You don't need to worry about Roxas. He very rarely likes anyone I bring home."

Vanitas hummed in answer but said nothing, his arms tightening minutely around Ventus before releasing him altogether. Ventus quickly programmed the dishwasher's cleaning cycle, then rinsed a wash cloth and started wiping down the kitchen bench. "I'll just finish this and we should be right to go."

The kitchen finally spotless, sans Roxas, Ventus rinsed off the cloth again and dried his hands on a nearby tea towel.

"Thanks for tonight," he quirked a smile up at Vanitas, the relief clear on his face. "My family means a lot to me, but…so do you. Roxas will come around eventually, but I'm really glad Mum and Dad like you."

Vanitas leant down and captured Ventus' lips with his own. Ventus slid his eyes shut and pressed forwards, the kiss staying innocent and gentle, but intense all the same. Pulling away, but still staying close, Vanitas smiled down at him and slowly slid a cool hand along Ventus' collarbone and up along his neck. His sure fingers rested over Ventus' beating pulse.

"Anything that's important to you, is important to me."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Get ready for the drama! This chapter is hectic. Epilogue to follow. Enjoy! :)

* * *

 **Chapter Three.**

Just as the days had given way to weeks, Ventus' time with Vanitas lazily slid into months and throughout every moment spent together, they always managed to never mention the fact that Vanitas was still planning on leaving town in a couple weeks' time.

Ventus had wanted to bring it up on a number of occasions, but somehow, he always struggled to get the words out. What would he say anyway? Vanitas had never fully explained his reasoning for having to leave and it was something that Ventus had never been able to get a straight answer to. Even if Vanitas' contract with Hall & Blades was coming to an end, why couldn't he just find work with another company in town? Ventus knew he couldn't go with Vanitas and knew it would be undeniably selfish of him to ask the man to stay, but he was becoming more and more anxious about it – constantly wondering what the hell he was going to do without the lover that had made him feel so complete.

Ventus had been restlessly counting down the days as the finishing date of Vanitas' contract drew closer and closer, quietly warring with himself to say something _– anything_ , before it was too late.

Despite how much this was all occupying his thoughts, when the clincher finally came, he was still taken completely by surprise.

It was a night like any other, and Ventus had locked up the café around 10 and promptly made his way straight over to Vanitas' place. The television was on with the sound just above a murmur, its flickering light casting shapes and shadows around the open plan living room; the only other light on being a single floor lamp in the far corner. Vanitas was nowhere in sight.

"Van?" Ventus called. "You home?"

The quiet of the apartment, which he usually found so calming, made him feel slightly uneasy for some reason. He'd been feeling something amiss all day, but even now, he still had no idea why.

There was no answer forthcoming as he kicked off his shoes, dropped his keys and wallet onto a nearby table and made his way into the kitchen. Finding it void of Vanitas as well, Ventus flicked on the light and made a beeline for the refrigerator. He listlessly surveyed its contents, shuffling a few jars of curry paste and assorted jams to the side, not really sure what he was hoping to find. There were some chicken breasts and several random vegetables that looked reasonably fresh, but he was decidedly unenthusiastic about cooking anything at the moment. Maybe he could coerce Vanitas into making him something; after all, he was _definitely_ the better cook.

"Vanitas?" He absentmindedly called again, lifting the water jug out of its place in the refrigerator door and placing it on the kitchen bench. It was possible he was in the shower, or out on the balcony. Ventus knew he wouldn't be asleep and idly tried to remember if Vanitas had said anything about staying out late.

Retrieving a highball from one of the kitchen cabinets, Ventus poured himself a tall glass of water and drank it slowly; the cool, refreshing liquid immediately helping revitalise his tired senses. Lowering the empty glass to the counter, Ventus instantly became aware of the eyes upon him and turned towards the doorway of the kitchen.

Vanitas was standing there motionless, his face completely blank, save for his piercing, golden eyes boring directly into Ventus' own.

Ventus started slightly, Vanitas' sudden, silent appearance catching him off guard.

"Jeez, Van, what are you creeping around for?"

Vanitas' expression remained unreadable for a split second longer until his gaze finally softened, his lips curving into a small smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"You didn't, I was just surprised. I didn't hear you come in…" Ventus breathed out around a tremulous laugh, his heart still beating rapidly within his chest. _What the hell was that about?_

Still smiling calmly, Vanitas made his way into the kitchen and pressed a lingering kiss to Ventus' cheek before taking his empty glass and refilling it. He avoided Ventus' eyes as he closed the lid on the water jug and moved to return it to its place in the refrigerator.

"How was your shift?"

"… _Gooood,"_ Ventus drew out, his eyes narrowing. Vanitas' odd behaviour wasn't escaping his notice in the slightest. "Just the usual, you know? Made a bunch of coffees, served a lot of cake…"

Vanitas' eyes were far away as he nodded absently and stared at a spot on the wall just above Ventus' head. He raised the glass of water to his lips, and drank silently, Ventus crossing his arms and continuing to scrutinise him. Something wasn't right; the unshakeable, uneasy feeling that had been dogging him all day returning tenfold.

"What's wrong?"

Vanitas leaned against the kitchen bench beside Ventus and finally looked at him, his fingers tightening around the glass. "Something has come up."

Ventus steeled himself, but said nothing. An icy, lead weight thumped its way deep into the pit of his stomach.

Vanitas paused briefly, searching Ventus' face and drinking in his apprehensive expression. "I have to leave sooner than I thought."

"How soon…?" Ventus heard himself say, Vanitas' words only just managing to register correctly in his suddenly panic-stationed brain. _This couldn't be happening…_

"Monday, at the latest," Vanitas murmured. His eyes narrowed and shifted away, his fingers once again clenching sporadically around the glass in his hand.

Ventus choked. " – So that's – four days? _Four days,_ and you have to _leave?"_

He knew the volume of his voice was steadily rising, but he couldn't stop it if he tried – couldn't stop the panic that was short circuiting his common sense.

"But, _why?_ I thought your contract only finished up at the end of this month? I thought we had more ti – !"

" _Time?"_ Vanitas snorted in disbelief. "Come on, Ventus, you knew this day was coming."

Ventus shook his head. "I _knew,_ but not this _soon,_ I…" He stared wide eyed down at the floor between them, feeling completely and utterly lost. "What am I supposed to do…. _"_

Vanitas placed the highball back down on the kitchen bench and stepped forward. Gently he brought his hands up and around Ventus' face, cradling his cheeks between his icy palms.

"Come with me," he whispered earnestly. "I can't stay…but I can't go without you."

"But, _why? Why_ can't you stay?" Ventus questioned him miserably, his eyes bright with emotion and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He wanted to touch Vanitas so badly but restrained himself; his arms still hanging loosely down by his side. He wanted answers and he needed them _now._

Vanitas just sighed, his reply remarkably evasive. "Staying here is just hindering you, Ventus. There is _so much_ you could stand to gain by leaving. Surely your family would understand?"

Anger sparked in Ventus' eyes as he abruptly stepped backwards and out of Vanitas' still outstretched hands. "I can't just up and _leave –_ not with my father dying! I've got too much to stay for!"

Why couldn't Vanitas understand that his family meant so much to him? His hands balled into fists as he struggled to keep the anger and frustration out of his voice. "I'd love to go with you and put my degree to good use, but I just _can't_ put my wants over those of my family."

A change seemed to come over Vanitas then – something Ventus had never seen in him before. Making a small sound of impatience, Vanitas tossed his head in irritation and stalked away a couple of steps. When he sharply turned back to face him, Ventus could clearly see how much he was trying to control himself. Vanitas' expression had grown hard; his eyes alight with his growing temper. "You don't understand…I _need_ you, Ventus."

If the other man's sudden change unnerved him, Ventus didn't outwardly show it. He mentally squared his shoulders and stood his ground. They'd never had a fight like this, never had anything to disagree over except maybe where to go for dinner, but he _knew_ he was missing something here! There was something Vanitas just wasn't telling him!

"No, I _don't_ understand! You can't just spring this on me and expect me to drop everything and leave! Why can't you just _stay_ till I _can_ go with you?"

Vanitas just stared, his eyes never wavering from Ventus' tumultuous blues. Ventus' chest was heaving from his outburst, his sharp breaths loud in his ears.

And suddenly, that's when Ventus realised what it was…

"You're hiding something…" He murmured, the truth of it finally dawning on him. "There's something you're not telling me…"

"Maybe Roxas _was_ right – maybe a couple of months _is_ too soon to really know someone…"

Vanitas' eyes narrowed and the intensity Ventus saw there made his blood run cold. His face twisted into something dark and dangerous, and the air in the room felt suffocating; the space between them almost seeming to spark with some unknown, invisible energy. Very suddenly, Ventus felt inexplicably afraid.

A distinct cracking noise broke the silence between them, until suddenly and with no further warning, the half-filled water glass resting on the kitchen bench explosively shattered into pieces – shards and splinters of glass flying in every which way imaginable.

Ventus yelled out in surprise, his hands instinctively moving to shield his face from the deadly, hurtling debris. Vanitas just stood there, his expression turning impassive as he continued to stare Ventus down. A small sliver of glass hit his cheek, leaving a long, thin cut in its wake. A single bead of blood threatened to fall and slide down towards his chin.

" _What the hell was that!?"_ Ventus shouted, his hands lowering from his face. His eyes tore around the room looking for an external source, or a bullet hole in the adjacent walls, or _something._ Water glasses didn't just explode by themselves! His eyes fell on Vanitas not a second later and immediately saw the long cut adorning his cheek, as well as a few smaller nicks also littering his arm that had been closest to the glass. They were all oozing blood slowly. He didn't even notice that Vanitas seemed completely unfazed as he rushed to close the distance between them. It was lucky he'd left his socks on, the thick cotton just barely protecting his feet from the numerous chunks and shards of glass decorating the floor.

"Shit – Van…"

He grabbed up a nearby tea towel and swiftly pressed it into the cut, his other hand cradling Vanitas' cheek. He could idly feel his own hands stinging, and the skin along his exposed arms, spots of blood from tiny, little cuts peppering him as well. Vanitas still remained silent, his golden eyes lazily wandering over Ventus' worried features.

Their argument all but forgotten, Ventus gingerly lifted the tea towel away from Vanitas' face so he could inspect the cut more closely. He didn't want to be pressing down so hard when there was a very real possibility that there was still glass imbedded in Vanitas' skin.

"…I don't know what the hell that was, but –" Ventus broke off abruptly, a small, disgruntled sound of confusion gurgling up and out of his throat.

 _What was that smell?_

He could smell something. Something he'd never smelled before, and it was simply _amazing._ It was rich and complex and his mouth inexplicably filled with saliva. Vanitas was silent, still watching him; his brows furrowed slightly as Ventus leaned in closer. Drawing in a shaky breath, Ventus closed his eyes for a moment and tried to pinpoint where the strange scent was coming from. Vanitas shifted within his grasp and a single drop of blood finally slipped free and arched its way down his cheek.

Instantly, Ventus knew – it was the scent of Vanitas' _blood._

Ventus' eyes snapped open and he recoiled in horror, sickened by his own perverse reaction to a substance that should never, _ever_ smell like something he would love to taste. _Why?_ Why would Vanitas' blood smell good to him? He didn't understand!

Before Ventus could get any further away, realisation had dawned across Vanitas' face, his hand instantly striking out to grasp hard around Ventus' wrist, halting his hasty retreat.

"You feel it too…" he murmured in quiet wonder, his eyes rapidly drinking in Ventus' distressed expression and sharpening.

His feet were bare, but Vanitas couldn't have cared less about the glass shards slicing into his soles as he forced Ventus backwards and pushed him up against the nearest wall. Vanitas pressed his body in close, his hands cradling Ventus' cheeks and soundly kissed him. Ventus whimpered, but didn't try to pull away, his confusion and worry still clearly written across his face.

" _Please,_ Ventus," Vanitas whispered earnestly. "We can always come back one day. It won't be forever." He pressed another forceful kiss against Ventus' lips, Ventus breathless and blue eyes far away, his hands loosely clutching at Vanitas' shirt.

"I can't explain everything to you now, but you have to believe me – it's always been you and me. Don't stay here when you need me just as much as I need you. Can't you see how much I love you?"

His stormy blue eyes snapping sharply back into focus, Ventus harshly shoved Vanitas off of him and stepped a few paces out of reach. He was hurt and _so_ furious, his voice trembling with his anger and disbelief.

"How _dare you_ say that to me – with the same breath you tell me you're leaving me? When you can't even tell me why and _nothing_ I say can make you stay!" Ventus' chest was heaving, the pain of the small cuts marring his skin now completely irrelevant to the pain he was feeling in his heart. "I don't _get_ how you expect me to simply go with you when you can't even be honest with me…when you _know_ I feel the same…when you _know_ how much you mean to me…"

Vanitas huffed out a tired sigh, but had no reply forthcoming. His golden eyes flicked away for a moment before returning to Ventus' own as they silently observed one another – his face infuriatingly unreadable, and Ventus standing with his hands clenched tightly at his sides.

Here they were, two lovers who had finally professed their love for each other, but in one of the worst scenarios imaginable. Ventus was crushed. He knew Vanitas loved him, had felt it to be as true as his own feelings, but now here Vanitas stood, using that love to manipulate him. Vanitas obviously didn't trust him enough to divulge any of his secrets – not until Ventus agreed to leave with him anyway. To Ventus, it was a choice that was simply not an option, and no matter what he said to defend his decision, Vanitas would never accept it.

"I don't believe this…" Ventus broke their eye contact and shook his head in dismay. He wearily shoved a hand through his hair. "I…I think I should go home. I can't deal with this right now."

He didn't wait for an answer, but just brushed past Vanitas and left the kitchen. The mess of the glass glittered all around them and crunched underneath Ventus' feet, but he didn't pause once on his way to the front door.

The TV was still on, flickering its cold, white light around the living room and across the various pieces of furniture. He reached the front door and shoved his feet into his shoes, his fingers scrabbling at his wallet and keys. He could feel the glass imbedded into his socks now mercilessly cutting through and into his skin, the cuts on his arms and hands smarting as well. He didn't care about any of it. Ventus faintly heard the crunch of glass underfoot as Vanitas followed after him at a more sedate pace. He knew he was running, but he needed time to think. He couldn't see a solution to this and knew without a doubt that if he stayed they would just keep arguing in circles.

"Ventus."

Ventus paused, his hand going still on the handle of the door. He peered over his shoulder at Vanitas now standing behind him. Vanitas' face was completely in shadow, his tone low and heavy with foreboding.

"…Don't come to regret this…"

A brief flash of Vanitas' teeth cut through the gloom as he spoke, Ventus drinking him in for a second more as the weighted words settled between them. Vanitas' piercing, golden eyes looked almost luminescent in the darkness.

 _Strange._ Ventus couldn't ever remember Vanitas' teeth looking so sharp.

He said nothing more as he turned back and pulled the door open, resolutely stepping out into the hallway beyond.

-0-

His parent's house seemed visibly darker than usual when Ventus pulled his car into the driveway. Roxas's car was parked on the street so he knew everyone had to be here already. His father certainly didn't work anymore and his mother would've been busy preparing everything for dinner, not to mention he was running almost half an hour late. He'd gone round to Vanitas' place to try and talk things over again. They hadn't spoken for two days but he couldn't simply give up and he still wasn't completely certain of what to do, but he knew he loved him with all his heart and that was definitely something he couldn't ignore, nor wish away. Vanitas hadn't been in, nor was he answering his phone. Ventus had left a message anyway, explaining where he'd be for the night, just in case Vanitas decided to see him.

"Hey! Sorry I'm late!" Ventus called as soon as he got through the front door. There was no answer forthcoming, so he made his way straight down the hallway and into the kitchen.

"Mum? Dad?" Entering the small, well lit room, his eyes were immediately drawn to a pot on the stove nearly bubbling over, its lid clattering and shaking noisily. He rushed over to turn down the heat, removing the lid at the same time. He took note of the contents which was one of his mother's famous pasta sauces.

"Roxas?" He tried again, taking up the large metal spoon sitting beside the cooktop and stirred the sauce quickly. Still no one answered. The kitchen bench was an organised clutter of herbs, vegetables and cooking ingredients. His mother couldn't have gone too far away, it looked like she was right in the middle of preparing everything. Where were they all?

Replacing the lid on the simmering pot, Ventus started making his way through to the dining room. He passed through the threshold and his heart stopped dead in his chest.

His mother was sitting at the far end of the table – facing the kitchen, and all Ventus could see was _all the_ _red._ Lareen's head hung limply against the back of the chair, her eyes staring out towards him – blank and unseeing.

Her throat was ripped open.

Ventus screamed. His scrabbling fingers braced himself against the doorway as his legs suddenly lost all feeling and his knees threatened to send him crashing to the floor.

" _Oh, my God!"_

Forcing himself upright, he rushed to her, his hand sliding down her slackened cheek, feeling her lack of response, even as he searched pointlessly for a pulse. Ventus whimpered and choked, tears already burning at his eyes. _"No…No…!"_

He grasped at her upper arms and shook her slightly, tears slipping down his cheeks. In his panic and desperation, his mind wasn't fully comprehending that she was already gone. Her skin was still slightly warm beneath his fingertips.

"Dad? Roxas? Where are you!?" He screamed out, pulling his mother against him in a pseudo, macabre embrace. Her head lolled uselessly on her shoulders, blood still oozing from her gaping, torn throat, congealing dark and thick against her skin. Ventus pressed her face into his chest, his hand tangled in the soft strands of her hair. Her blood was already colouring his white shirt a deep, vibrant red.

A noise from somewhere above startled him out of his shock. He looked up at the ceiling and recognised the distinctive sound of footsteps moving slowly in the room above him.

"Roxas!? Dad!?" He shouted again, but the steps faltered and everything fell silent again, save for the pot still bubbling on the stove.

He gasped for breath and blinked through his tears as he gazed down into his mother's sightless eyes. How could this have happened? How could his mother, the woman who meant everything to him, be dead?

And if no one was answering – then his father and Roxas were…!?

Ventus gently leaned Lareen's lifeless body back against the chair, his hands shaking violently and disturbingly stained with her blood.

He ignored this as best as he was able and shakily willed his legs to move – to get upstairs. The footsteps had sounded like they were coming from his father's study. Maybe he wouldn't be too late…

Ventus climbed the stairs at a run, his chest jolting painfully with every breath; the blood rushing in his ears almost deafening. The door to the study was closed and he desperately fumbled to get it open, blood from his hands smearing over the sleek, metal handle and onto the pristine white of the painted wood. He flung it wide and rushed through, his father's name dying on his lips.

Eraqus was slumped over his grand, wooden desk, and there was blood – _why was there so much blood?_ The thick, crimson liquid pooled around his father's face and shoulders, seeping over the surface of the desk and into his clothes. It ran in trickling rivulets down the wooden sides, staining deep into the pale cream carpet. The room reeked with the smell of it – metallic and heady.

Unable to tear his eyes away from the cruel reality in front of him, Ventus staggered backwards, his shoulder slamming awkwardly into the wall. Doubling over, he wrapped both arms around his middle and groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as his stomach promptly revolted and released its contents all over the floor. He coughed and moaned feebly, his lungs desperately trying to pull in more oxygen as his stomach kept heaving, and _heaving._

This had to be a dream – _no,_ an absolute nightmare. His mother was dead. His father was dead. Two beautiful, kind-hearted people who would never have hurt anyone – who loved life with their entire beings had had their lives brutally cut short. How could they be gone? His father had had such limited time as it was…Why would someone seek to brutally murder them?

 _What kind of monster would do something like this?_

The convulsions of his stomach subsiding, Ventus slowly slid down the wall with his arms still wound tightly around himself. His eyes wandered to the small, elaborate cross hung on the opposite wall. The room was too hot and he struggled to breathe, the sounds of his desperate gasps filled the demanding silence.

" _Ven…tus."_

Ventus' head snapped so hard to the right he felt the muscles strain painfully in his neck. It had been faint, but he'd heard it. _Roxas' voice._

He scrambled clumsily to his feet. "R-Roxas!?"

"Ventus…!" Roxas sobbed again, his voice pained and weak but Ventus could instantly tell his brother was calling from downstairs.

"Roxas, where are you!?"

He thudded down the stairs, nearly falling in his haste, his mother's dried, congealed blood on his hand sticking his palm grotesquely to the banister.

" _Don't…come…"_ He heard Roxas gasp out, Ventus' feet automatically moving him towards their parent's darkened living room.

He rounded the corner and there, slumped against the armrest of one of the couches was Roxas. Roxas whimpered and sobbed brokenly as his eyes fell upon his brother, Ventus choking on his own cries as he rushed forwards and pulled the small teen into his shaking arms.

"Roxas! What happened here? Mum and Dad are – they're…they're both –!" He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. He crushed Roxas' limp form up against him, his brother's laboured breaths and quiet sobs tearing his heart apart. Roxas didn't even have the strength to lift his arms and return Ventus' frantic embrace.

"Ventus…" Roxas' words were so weak. "You've…got to… _run_." He drew in a shallow breath, his voice shaking.

"…Run…before he _comes back_ …"

"Who, Roxas? Who are you talking about?" Ventus demanded anxiously. He gently lowered Roxas' trembling form back into the softness of the couch, his eyes searching Roxas' dim blue ones. He felt the slickness of fresh blood coating his hands and instantly froze in place. His eyes adjusting to the darkness in the room, Ventus finally noticed Roxas' extensive injuries for the first time. With a growing sense of horror, his eyes darted over Roxas' arms, neck and face. He was bleeding profusely – thin cuts and bite marks marring his skin.

" _Oh, God,"_ Ventus moaned, the terror he felt rising. "I need to call you an ambulance!"

Roxas shook his head and tried to answer, his eyes filled with pain and fear. "No time…" he gasped, "I…tried to fight him – but –!"

Ventus tried to comfort him, despite his panic growing. "Shh, it's going to be okay – I'm going to get help!" He shakily got to his feet, intent on running back into the kitchen and using the phone, but Roxas suddenly managed to surge forward and made a desperate grab for his retreating hand.

" _He's…not human, Ven…"_ Roxas just shook his head again, his anguish lacing his words.

"… _should never…have let him in!"_

"Ventus."

Ventus jumped in surprise, still clutching tightly at Roxas' outstretched hand as an all too familiar voice spoke from behind him.

He turned to find the comforting outline of Vanitas silhouetted in the doorway. His lover's face was unreadable, golden eyes piercing.

"Van!"

Roxas clutched at his fingers, but he pulled free without a moment's thought. Unmindful of the blood still staining his hands and shirt, Ventus ran to throw himself at Vanitas.

He grasped at Vanitas' upper arms tightly, fisting his hands in the fabric of his sleeves. In turn, Vanitas' hands came up as well, lightly clasping underneath Ventus' elbows.

"Something terrible has happened! My parents –!" Ventus gasped out, his blue eyes wild and frantic. "We need to call an ambulance! Roxas is hurt – hurt really bad!"

" _Ven, no…"_ He heard Roxas sob from behind him.

Vanitas slid his hands up Ventus' underarms, his expression still so blank, his intense amber eyes all but glowing down at him.

"That won't be necessary," Vanitas intoned, one hand sliding further around Ventus' shoulders, strong, cold fingers playing idly with the fine hairs on the back of his neck.

Ventus was confused, and he knew his face showed it. His hands gripped harder into Vanitas' arms, revealing his frustration with Vanitas' lack of response.

"My Mum and Dad have been _murdered,_ Vanitas! Roxas is hurt and he's losing a lot of blood! We need to get help!" He shook him slightly, his eyes desperate, _begging_ Vanitas to understand. "I don't know _how_ someone could do this or _why,_ but we've got to get Roxas to the hospital before I lose him too!"

"I did."

Vanitas' simple words cut through Ventus like a thunderbolt. His entire body went still.

"Wh…What?"

"I killed them." Vanitas clarified, that beautiful mouth that Ventus loved, quirking up into an arrogant smirk.

Ventus gasped in fear, immediately pulling himself away, but Vanitas held him fast.

"You left me with no choice, Ventus," Vanitas murmured, his face suddenly serious. One hand moved to lazily caress one of Ventus' cheeks.

"I have been searching for my mate for over two hundred years, and now that I've finally found you, I can't just let you go."

Ventus trembled violently within Vanitas' restraining embrace, his troubled eyes frantically searching Vanitas' patient expression for the slightest indication that he was joking.

"This…This isn't funny, Vanitas!"

Vanitas continued on like Ventus had not even spoken, his voice low and deep. "I know you don't understand, Ventus, but you will. When one of my kind bonds with another, it's for all eternity, and now that I've bonded with you, no other's blood will be able to sustain me for long. I need you – I need the life in your blood that empowers you, and when I turn you, my blood will be all that you need as well."

From somewhere behind Ventus, Roxas started to sob harder.

"You murdered my parents!" Ventus all but screamed into Vanitas' face. "Why couldn't you just stay here with me!? How can you say I drove you to _this!?_

"I'm being hunted, by others of my kind," Vanitas answered simply. "I killed my Master – which is considered to be the greatest of sins. They will never stop pursuing me."

" _You…"_ Ventus breathed, incredulous. "You did this for yourself! _This_ is how you treat the one you _love_? _Look at what you've done!"_

Vanitas' eyes hardened. "It is _precisely_ because I love you, that I had to do this. I can't stay here, but I can't leave without you with me. And besides," he gave a callous shrug, "when you become one with me, these humans will be like insignificant insects. You will be reborn – immortal."

Ventus' mind was reeling. He began to struggle harder against Vanitas tightening hold. Through the clouding confusion and encompassing disbelief, his brain was continuously repeating a single word over and over...

 _Vampire…_

"I don't want to bond with you – I don't want _anything_ to do with you! You – _you monster!"_

Vanitas actually had the gall to look hurt, eyes slightly pained. "That's cruel, Ventus – you would have me die without you, rather than join me?"

"Yes!" Ventus burst out, sensing Vanitas' hesitation and finally gaining some leverage against the taller man's chest. He pushed himself away violently, only to have Vanitas purposely relinquish his hold, causing him to completely lose his balance and fall backwards onto the floor.

Vanitas stood silently over him, golden eyes burning, his face clearly showing his cold, bitter disappointment.

"What a shame I have to resort to this…" He whispered menacingly. His tongue darted out, licking his lips.

Ventus gasped, instantly realising what Vanitas was about to do. He clawed at the carpet beneath him, leveraging himself up and backwards – desperately trying to reach Roxas in time.

He was too late. Vanitas already stood behind him, a whimpering Roxas held tight against his chest. One strong arm was snaked around Roxas' waist and supporting his weight – Vanitas' other hand trailing lazily up Roxas' heaving chest, finally coming to a stop, grasping hard around the boy's chin.

As Ventus watched, Vanitas sharply forced Roxas' head upwards, his fingers digging cruelly into Roxas' skin. Ventus was fixated on his brother's terror-stricken face; Roxas' eyes were wide and so very fearful. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

"V-Ven!"

"Now." Vanitas began calmly. "We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way." He slowly dragged a clawed fingernail down Roxas' cheek, a thin, fluid line of blood trickling down his face. Roxas cried out, his tortured eyes boring down into Ventus' stricken blues. Roxas still didn't have the strength to move, his arms hanging limply down by his sides. Ventus was crouched low on the floor, his legs frozen in place. He realised that if Vanitas was what he was revealing himself to be then he'd more than likely already drained Roxas of a lot of blood and now he was simply toying with him.

Enjoying his distress, Vanitas smiled wickedly over Roxas' shoulder. He laughed softly. "You know, I had originally planned to kill him along with your parents, but as soon as I tasted his blood I had a better idea." There was a flash of his impossibly sharp teeth, then without warning Vanitas was bearing down hard, biting deep into the flesh of Roxas' shoulder.

Roxas screamed, Vanitas' canines easily sinking through fabric and skin alike, his lips and tongue greedily sucking and tasting his rich, red blood.

" _Stop!"_ Ventus begged, his voice rising over the top of Roxas' screams. " _Please!"_

Vanitas pulled away and licked the blood off his lips. His teeth shone red in his mouth. Roxas whimpered and moaned, his sobs so broken and terrified. His eyes opened and once again sought out Ventus still frozen on the floor, those blue depths _begging – pleading_ for his older brother to make the pain _stop._

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this," Vanitas continued conversationally, "but you and your _lovely_ brother here have one of the rarest blood types in the world – AB Positive." Not taking his eyes off of Ventus, Vanitas licked a slow trail with his tongue from the crook of Roxas' shoulder all the way up to his ear. "That day in the café – when I met you – your blood had the most heavenly scent…" Vanitas moaned aloud at the memory, his teeth biting down on the lobe of Roxas' ear. Roxas cried out in surprise, his eyes squeezing shut with the onslaught of renewed pain.

"Please – don't do this, Vanitas – please let him go!" Ventus pleaded. He couldn't bear hearing Roxas' strangled cries any longer. His eyes flicked around the room frantically, finally locating what he was searching for. Above the television was a large, ornate wooden cross. If he remembered correctly about what supposedly repelled Vampires, maybe – just maybe he could –!

Vanitas noticed where Ventus was looking and released Roxas' earlobe with a careless laugh. "I know you don't _believe_ , Ventus. That's not going to save you. It didn't really help your parent's either." He licked away the blood lingering on Roxas' skin, drinking in Ventus' purely tortured expression and hummed with pleasure.

Ventus grit his teeth. How had he never seen this side of Vanitas before? All the time they'd spent together and only now was Vanitas revealing his true nature. He knew with the way things were, he wouldn't be able to deceive him.

"Please, Vanitas – I'll do what you want – I'll go with you – I promise! Just please, _please_ let Roxas go!

Vanitas immediately halted his ministrations, his eyes once more locking with Ventus'. "Do you mean that?" He said quietly. "I need you to come willingly, or simply attempting to turn you will not work."

Ventus felt like a tight fist was squeezing the life out of his heart. He couldn't breathe. He realised what he was promising, and he would've been a liar if he'd said he wasn't scared, but his mother and father were dead, and now Roxas – his only brother was all he had left. He couldn't lose him too.

He had to do this.

He faced Vanitas with determination. Yes, he was fearful of what was to come, but there was no doubt in his mind. To keep Roxas safe, he would do anything…

"I promise. I'll join you willingly – so long as Roxas lives."

All was silent for a few heartbeats, save for Roxas still quietly whimpering. His eyes never left Ventus' now resolute expression.

Vanitas relaxed his hold around Roxas' chin and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder, his smile widening. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

"I'm not doing it for you," Ventus grit out. He unsteadily climbed to his feet. Following his acquiescence, he wasn't sure of what was to come next, but he wanted to be ready.

Roxas was shaking his head slowly, his horror at this sudden turn of events written plain on his face.

"Ven…don't…"

Vanitas spoke over him. "That's very noble of you, Ventus. I can see your brother means a lot to you." His voice was deceptively soft. "But there's just one, small problem with leaving him alive. He might talk too much. Talk so much in fact, that my kind pursuing me could hear it in passing. I don't know if I can take that chance."

The hand resting on Roxas' shoulder suddenly moved like lightning, burying deep into the boy's unruly hair. Vanitas yanked Roxas' head to the side, forcibly exposing more of his neck. Roxas cried out and struggled weakly, his fingers twitching uselessly down by his sides.

"Roxas!" Ventus took a sharp step forwards, not entirely sure of what he thought he could do to stop this. He was completely and utterly powerless.

Vanitas just smiled calmly. "But if it would please you, I can be kind – I can make it feel so good for him. Would you like that, Ventus?"

As Ventus watched on in confusion, Roxas' pained, terrified expression faded completely. His eyes became glassy and unfocussed, his quiet whimpers faltering. Vanitas grinned wickedly, his golden eyes all but glowing in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he lowered his mouth over Roxas' exposed throat. Roxas' face twisted with need and he moaned softly, his breath coming out in small pants. He moved his head more to the left, completely lost to the glamour and silently begging for more.

Realisation of what was happening slowly dawned on Ventus; watching his hypnotised brother wordlessly encourage Vanitas to bite him. It was wrong – so very wrong!

"No…"

Ignoring Ventus' desperate plea, Vanitas slowly bit down into Roxas' neck, piercing his jugular. Roxas moaned erotically at the forced sensation, his eyes still clouded and distant as Vanitas' drank from him. With a small, contented sigh, he all but sagged against his captor's chest. Vanitas hummed approvingly, his lips still greedily sucking hard at Roxas' throat, blood trickling down in small ribbons and soaking into Roxas' already heavily stained shirt. Vanitas' hand left Roxas' hair and started trailing downwards slowly. Finding purchase between the boy's legs, Vanitas rubbed teasingly against Roxas' growing erection. Roxas moaned louder.

"Just – Stop! Vanitas!" Ventus shouted, his voice breaking. With a low chuckle, Vanitas actually listened to him and broke away from Roxas' neck. Roxas' gasped sharply, but otherwise remained the same, still utterly lost in his dazed, dreamlike state. Ventus' eyes were drawn downwards to the gaping wound on Roxas' neck. Fresh blood was oozing there, rich and thick. With the way things were, his brother would surely bleed to death.

"I swear, Vanitas – if he dies – !" Ventus felt desperate. He knew Vanitas would never kill _him_ – if what he said about their 'bond' was true, but there was nothing he could do about Roxas being so expendable.

"Relax," Vanitas murmured, an amused smile now playing about his blood stained lips. He lowered his mouth over Roxas' neck again and gave the bite wound a long, slow lick. The blood flowing there immediately stopped. Ventus could clearly see where the wound had once been, was now just smooth, unbroken skin.

Moving Roxas like he weighed next to nothing, Vanitas wiped at his mouth and casually dropped him like a ragdoll back onto the couch. Roxas was still staring off into space, his eyes very slowly starting to regain focus. Ventus didn't move, his shoulders sagging with relief. Somehow, he'd managed to get through. Hopefully Roxas would be okay.

Vanitas took a step towards him, snapping Ventus' attention back onto him in an instant. "That was greedy of me," Vanitas apologised. "I should leave him for you."

Ventus said nothing in answer, but felt sick to his stomach at what Vanitas was implying. The air in the room was thick with the sweet, metallic stench of Roxas' blood, and he could almost feel the suffocating atmosphere clinging to his skin. He couldn't ever imagine _liking_ this overpowering smell and hungrily _craving_ what it promised. His anger and frustration gave way to a feeling of hopelessness and sadness as he knew without a doubt that this was to become his new reality. He shuddered at the thought.

He didn't resist in the slightest as Vanitas reached for him and slowly pulled him into his arms. Ventus looked away, a slight tremble working its way through his body. His heart was beating a harsh rhythm inside of his chest. Had it not been just two days prior to this that he'd been held in these same arms, feeling so warm and safe – dreamily thinking he'd never been happier? All those times they'd made dinner together, or lounged comfortably in each other's arms on the couch…all the times this man's hands had touched him – held him so passionately while they made love…

Now they were stained with his family's blood.

Vanitas grasped his chin, oh so gently guiding Ventus' face up to his, searching his troubled gaze. Ventus drank in Vanitas' features, slowly examining his face as if only seeing him for the first time. His heart twisted painfully. After everything that Vanitas had done – everything he was inevitably about to do, Ventus couldn't help the rush of emotion he still felt for this man that was currently holding him like he was the most precious thing on Earth. He felt ashamed and disgusted with himself.

It finally made sense to him why he'd been feeling so weak and dizzy of late. Vanitas had been feeding on him. How often it had happened, he'd never know, but it was obvious Vanitas had been tampering with his memories so that he wouldn't remember…and there was still the issue of the smell of Vanitas' blood the other night…why had he reacted the way that he did?

He suddenly thought of the way Roxas had reacted to Vanitas, too, when Vanitas had induced some sort of submissive, dreamlike state over him. Perhaps he too had been…?

"What you just did to Roxas…have you done that to me, too?" Ventus looked searchingly into Vanitas' solemn eyes.

"Was anything we shared real…?" He whispered sadly, his tone heavy with doubt.

Vanitas frowned, his hand releasing Ventus' chin and sliding along his cheek. "All of it was real, Ventus."

Ventus didn't stop him, but neither did he reciprocate as Vanitas leaned down and gently pressed their lips together. "The only time I used my glamour was to take away the pain…and to bury your memories." He cradled the Ventus' face between his palms, his eyes dark and slightly remorseful. Ventus was surprised to realise that Vanitas was silently willing him to understand – to not be angry and to forgive what he'd been keeping a secret, without question. Ventus could have laughed out loud if the circumstances had been different. Here his former lover stood – not apologising for murdering his parents and torturing his brother, but for hiding his true nature and falsifying his memories. It was completely absurd.

"That first time I took you home…I wasn't planning on seeing you again, but after I tasted your blood, I could feel that there was something different between us. Even then, the bond was calling to me. I didn't understand what I was feeling, because this has never happened for me, but it has always been you and I, Ventus." Vanitas pressed another kiss to Ventus' unyielding lips.

"Didn't you think it strange that the scent of my blood was appealing to you? Fate decided long ago that we would join as one. Everything we've shared – and the love I feel for you – it's eternal."

Ventus closed his eyes, effectively shutting Vanitas' pleading expression out of his mind. If only he'd known – if only he had just gone with him…would his parents still be alive…?

"How can you even _think_ I could still love you after all of this?" Ventus grated out, his unsettled blue eyes glaring up into Vanitas' serious gold.

Vanitas smiled, his expression turning sure. "Oh, but I know you do. I can see it buried deep within your eyes." Not wanting to believe it, Ventus tried to pull away but Vanitas instantly tightened his hold. He pulled Ventus flush against him, his arms trapping him there in a strong embrace. He whispered heatedly into Ventus' ear. "Right now you might hate me, but your human emotions are so very different to that of an immortal. The strongest emotions will follow you into your next life, but as the years pass, and the decades fade into centuries, you will come to love me again."

Ventus shook his head sadly, his eyes impossibly wide, but in his heart he knew Vanitas' words to be true.

"You will need me, just as much as I need you…" Vanitas whispered, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh behind Ventus' ear.

Ventus shivered. Over Vanitas' shoulder his eyes locked with those of his brothers, Roxas still sprawled limp and gasping for breath on the couch behind them. He looked so scared. Ventus wished he could say something to him – to tell him that he would be okay… that they both would be.

He didn't look away as he slowly brought his arms up and around Vanitas, returning his embrace. He subtly tilted his head to the side, a silent invitation.

"Please…don't let it hurt," he whispered, closing his eyes.

Vanitas said nothing. He pressed a lingering kiss to Ventus' neck before pulling him in closer, cradling him within his arms.

Ventus gasped and his eyes flew open as Vanitas' teeth punctured his flesh. He instinctively jerked away but Vanitas held him fast and bit down harder.

It hurt! It hurt _so much!_ Ventus whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, his hands fisting tight in the fabric of Vanitas' shirt. A peculiar sensation washed over him then, and he felt his legs give way beneath him. He could still feel Vanitas holding him, sucking and drinking from the bite on his neck, but instead of the intense pain, he felt a slow, creeping pleasure begin crawling through his veins. His head lolled back to stare at the ceiling, stars and shimmers of light dancing across his eyes. He felt warm, and safe, and _loved –_ so many comfortable emotions rushing through his senses as Vanitas drained him of his human life. He wasn't afraid anymore and he was _so very sleepy._ He closed his eyes, his arms falling limp at his sides.

He wanted to sleep _so badly_.

-0-

Vanitas felt Ventus gradually go limp in his arms, one of Ventus' hands still clutching at his waist as he desperately tried to stay conscious. Ventus' taste was intoxicating, nearly sending him wild with the bloodlust it inspired, but he wouldn't let go of his control. He knew his glamour had come over strong – had taken away Ventus' pain, but not his perception of what was happening. Vanitas didn't want to hurt him. He wanted his love to understand and accept the feelings he felt for him.

He could feel what little life was left inside Ventus as he slowly dropped to his knees and gently laid him down on the floor. He sealed his bite mark gracing Ventus' neck and paused for a few moments, his eyes wandering over his lover's still features. Ventus looked peaceful, his soft hair framing his face, and his lips slightly parted.

He brushed a hand through Ventus' beautiful hair, caressed his cheek softly. He'd waited so long for this moment. So very, very long and now finally, Ventus – his mate, would be his.

"I can't wait for your awakening, my beautiful Ventus."

Ignoring the restless movements from the human behind him, Vanitas ripped into his own wrist, his blood flowing instantly. It trickled down his forearm, dripping onto the cream carpet below. His other hand cradled Ventus' head lightly as he pressed his open wrist to Ventus' parted lips. He suffered a second of intense impatience, then finally, Vanitas felt Ventus responding. Ventus' eyelids fluttered and his lips parted further and _sucked._ Vanitas grunted, but held his position as Ventus began hungrily drinking his blood, pulling more and more of the hot, crimson liquid passed his greedy lips. Suddenly, Ventus' eyes snapped open, and his arms moved to wrench Vanitas' wrist away from his mouth. He screamed as the change took over him and his body began to violently writhe and shake.

Vanitas stood and watched, his golden eyes glowing and his senses alive with the anticipation.

He idly became aware of the all too familiar noise of buttons being pressed, his attention immediately diverted to the little human sitting behind him. So it seemed Roxas had managed to retrieve his mobile from his pocket and was most likely dialling for help. That _simply_ wouldn't do.

Turning away from Ventus still screaming and convulsing on the floor, Vanitas effortlessly plucked the phone from Roxas' shaking fingers and crushed it within his hand. Roxas gasped, taken completely by surprise. He hadn't even seen Vanitas move. Vanitas stood over him and smiled wickedly. He loved the terror he could inspire in these feeble creatures.

"When he awakens, he's going to be _very_ hungry, and unfortunately for you, sweet Roxas, you will be _irresistible…"_

Roxas' eyes widened fearfully and Vanitas grinned harder, baring his sharpened teeth. Behind them, Ventus fell completely silent, the final stage of the turning coursing through his body.

Leaving Roxas for the moment, Vanitas moved to retrieve Ventus' now still form from the floor and sat him upright on the couch next to his stricken brother. He sat too, and settled himself comfortably, pulling Ventus' unconscious form against his chest. He smoothed a hand through Ventus' hair.

It wouldn't be long now…

-0-

Ventus felt like he was lying on the bottom of the ocean. For what had felt like an endless eternity, all of his senses had been on fire. A molten, burning heat coursed through his veins as Vanitas' blood had entwined and melded with his own. His heart raced, his lungs heaved, his body convulsing and suffering a thousand little deaths as his chemical and biological composition changed and transformed into something entirely new.

Slowly but surely he felt his conscious travelling upwards through the depths of his mind. The endless pain was finally receding and in its place, he could feel a truly _wonderful_ feeling bleeding through. He felt a strong, overwhelming power curl and pulse through his body. He couldn't remember ever feeling so _alive._

With a strangled gasp, Ventus' eyes flew open and all of his senses were immediately assaulted by the world around him filtering into his consciousness.

 _He was reborn._

He vaguely recognised his parent's living room, but where before it had been dark and gloomy, it was now full of this strange, vibrant light. The air seemed to shimmer and undulate around him, his new eyes shifting around the room slowly and just drinking it all in. Little by little he was becoming more aware of everything around him – to the press of another body against him, to the quiet gasps of another, more weaker being sitting close on his right.

But the most devastatingly apparent sensation that ripped through his senses and took him completely by surprise was the strong, overpowering scent of _blood._ He could smell it _everywhere_ – not just the room he was sitting in, but the entire house seemed to be inundated with it. His throat burned, and an intense thirst threatened to overwhelm him. He whimpered and closed his eyes. It was too much; he couldn't handle it.

"Shh, it's okay…" said the person he was leaning into. A cool, strong hand grabbed at his forearm and pulled him in closer.

With his nose buried in the other person's chest, Ventus was momentarily relieved to breathe in something surprisingly familiar. He instantly recognised the distinctive scent of another one of his own kind, and this person was very much a male.

He _knew_ this person. He knew him very well.

He opened his eyes slowly and looked up into the man's face and the breath caught in his throat. The first thing he saw were two beautiful, shimmering gold eyes, burning down into his own, then pale skin, vibrant jet black hair, and a small contented smile gracing familiar lips. It was Vanitas, but not like Ventus had ever seen him. He was beautiful and so very alluring. Ventus was captivated and found it hard to look away.

"Beautiful…" Ventus murmured, his voice sounding strangely foreign to his own ears as he raised a hand and hesitantly ghosted his fingers down Vanitas' cheek.

Vanitas breathed out a laugh and covered Ventus' hand with his own and squeezed gently. Ventus thrilled at the touch.

"How do you feel?" Vanitas breathed, his other arm pulling Ventus closer and his hand massaging gently along the nape of his neck.

Ventus moaned in answer and pressed forwards, his tongue flicking over Vanitas' lips. He closed his eyes as Vanitas obliged, sealing their mouths together in a slow, heated kiss. Why did everything have to feel _so good?_

He was acutely aware of Vanitas' heart beating, the blood travelling lazily along his veins. The sound of it was intoxicating, and Ventus was so _very hungry._

He whimpered, one of his sharpened canines nicking Vanitas' bottom lip. Blood wept from the small cut instantly and Ventus hungrily lapped it up, Vanitaas moaning deeply at the taste of his own blood mingling into their kiss.

Vanitas' blood was like a drug to Ventus' newly heightened senses. It tasted _incredible_ , easily the most delicious substance he had ever tasted. He knew instantly he would never be able to drink enough.

They separated slowly, Ventus' breathing uneven and ragged. The strong smell of the house, and the lingering taste of Vanitas' blood on his tongue was driving him wild with need.

"It's too much," he panted onto Vanitas' lips. "All I can smell is _blood."_

Vanitas hummed in understanding. He brushed his hand comfortingly through Ventus' hair. "Sorry about that. I'm a bit of a messy eater when I get carried away."

Ventus knew what Vanitas was referring to and briefly spared a thought for his cruelly slaughtered parents. He didn't know whether he should feel sick or not, at how disturbingly little that now seemed to bother him. He had been fundamentally changed – chemically and biologically. No longer human.

His loyalties had changed, all but severing the strong emotions he had once felt for his family. They were so different now. Humans were weak, feeble creatures – an inferior race. He felt arrogant and strong, and knew he was now supremely superior. He couldn't believe he had feared this change, but then again, he really hadn't understood, just like Vanitas had told him.

His human mother and father were irrefutably dead, but then he remembered that he'd had a brother too. _How could he forget?_ He breathed in sharply through his nose, his attention suddenly being diverted to the erratic, frail heartbeat of the boy sitting on his opposite side. He was so close…

 _Roxas._

Wordlessly, Ventus pushed away from Vanitas and turned, his electric blue eyes meeting the frightened, pale blue of his brothers. Roxas saw the look on Ventus' face and instantly understood what his big brother was thinking.

"V-Ventus…?" Roxas wavered, feebly attempting to push himself up off the couch and away from Ventus' hungry, penetrative stare. He was still too weak, his sluggish heart working overtime just keeping him conscious.

Ventus reached for him and grabbed up Roxas' forearms, silently drawing him in closer. Roxas shook his head, his tone pleading. "Don't do this, Ven… _please_ …"

Vanitas watching all of this unfold, threw back his head and laughed. A damning sound.

Ventus ignored Roxas' gasping pleas and gently tilted the boy's head to the side. His heart beat a strong, heady beat as the anticipation shivered along his senses. Roxas whimpered and clung to Ventus' shirt, his hands trembling in the fabric.

"You're…my brother, Ven! Don't…forget who you are!"

Ventus didn't answer. He pressed his lips to Roxas' neck, just enjoying the feel and warmth of Roxas' blood thrumming there, just below a teasingly thin layer of skin. His brother's scent was faintly familiar and a rush of emotion surged through him. Roxas choked out a sob, already too familiar with the pain that was to come.

Ventus could feel his newly sharpened canine's lengthening. He dragged them along Roxas' supple skin, desperate to pierce through that final barrier and _drink,_ and _taste,_ and _feed…_

Faded memories flashed across his mind – memories from a childhood that seemed a lifetime ago now. He was suddenly fifteen years old again, and a frightened six-year-old Roxas was climbing into his bed, a violent thunder storm raging outside his bedroom window – next Roxas was eight, and Ventus was holding the bicycle steady for him as Roxas tentatively tried working the pedals. Flashes of family dinners followed, hugs, smiles and so much laughter, his baby brother's blue, blue eyes gazing adoringly into his own.

Ventus gasped and froze, his teeth seconds away from piercing through Roxas' skin. He couldn't do it. The remnants of his humanity lingered, and he finally remembered what this trembling, petrified boy used to mean to him.

He reluctantly forced himself to pull his lips away from Roxas' neck. He brushed his fingers along Roxas' jaw, forcing him to look up, and there were those blue eyes again, that he remembered so well. Roxas' eyes were filled with fear as Ventus silently observed him.

Ventus felt pained. He knew that a large part of him had been lost completely by Vanitas' vampiric blood combining with his, but deep, deep inside he could still feel who he used to be – before the bloodlust had eclipsed everything. He let out a deep sigh.

"I'm not your brother anymore, Roxas." Ventus leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to Roxas' trembling lips. "But even so…I want you to live." Roxas gasped and held impossibly still, Ventus swiping his tongue along the long cut adorning his cheek.

He groaned quietly, trying hard to control himself as the sweet, perfect flavour of Roxas' blood flooded his senses. His mouth ached and filled with saliva, the all-encompassing hunger threatening to consume him. He wanted to bite _so much_.

Ventus tore himself away from Roxas and desperately turned back to Vanitas. "Van – I can't..." He gasped brokenly. He couldn't bring himself to feed off of Roxas but he wanted – _he needed –_

He felt like he was losing his mind.

Vanitas smirked and gently pulled Ventus onto his lap. He knew what he wanted. "Come here, then," he sighed, leaning his head to the side and invitingly revealing more of his neck. Ventus moaned at the sight, his entire being throbbing with need. He settled himself comfortably, one hand holding Vanitas' shoulder tight, the other hand grabbing a fistful of silken, black hair. He couldn't restrain himself a moment longer. Ventus leaned forward and without hesitation, sunk his teeth deep into Vanitas' neck. Vanitas tilted his head back against the couch and groaned deeply, Ventus already hungrily sucking hard at the delicious blood flowing there.

The heavenly taste of Vanitas' warm blood flooded across Ventus' tongue and electrified his nerves. He was _so hungry_ and Vanitas tasted so _good,_ and so _right._ He sucked, and licked, and glugged mouthful after mouthful, Vanitas' life force empowering him – making him feel like he was only living now for the first time.

Images flashed across his mind – the memories kept in Vanitas' blood. He saw countless faces, some lost in pleasure, others twisted in pain. He briefly saw fleeting images of a dainty, blond woman he recognised as his mother. She was backing away, fear brightening her eyes. It was gone before he barely had time to register it, so many other people that Vanitas had quenched his thirst on, all fluttering through Ventus' reeling thoughts. All he could really focus on was his own dangerous need to satiate his hunger. He vaguely recognised an elderly lady he had seen on the news that had reportedly died in the heat wave currently sweeping the county; then a small girl who had been reported missing – her eyes wide and her face full of terror. The media had gotten it all wrong. He wasn't the only one Vanitas had been preying upon. The ancient immortal had to have kept his strength up somehow…and then there in his blood, drawn from the very core of Vanitas' life, Ventus could feel some kind of strange pull _calling_ to him – an ancient connection that had sealed their lives together. It was like he had always been missing a half of his soul and now, finally all the pieces were fitted perfectly together.

Vanitas drew small, lazy patterns up and down Ventus' spine, dragged his fingernails down his sides, and massaged his strong fingers across Ventus' scalp. "Such a greedy child," he laughed breathlessly. His golden eyes snaked off to the side, catching Roxas' horrified stare. He grinned indulgently, enjoying Roxas' obvious discomfort.

"I am _not_ a child," Ventus murmured against Vanitas' neck. He licked the bite wound he'd made clean and watched curiously as it seamlessly healed, right before his eyes. He sat up slowly, experiencing something akin to a head rush, his senses tingling pleasantly. Now that he had fed, and the bloodlust had left him, he felt a lot more like his former self.

Vanitas smiled contentedly up at him. He pressed his index finger to one of Ventus' sharp canines. They had yet to retract back into his mouth. "Baby teeth…" he cooed softly, Ventus immediately frowning at the tone and batting his hand away. He seized the Vanitas' lips in a feverish kiss, their tongues sliding together slowly and sensuously.

Vanitas broke the kiss and gently pushed Ventus off of his lap. "As much as I would like to stay for dessert, we have to go."

Ventus nodded and checked into the reality of being found in a house with two brutally butchered people, and one critically injured – not to mention the others of their kind that were hunting Vanitas... There was still so much of his new world that he knew nothing about. Without Vanitas' guidance and protection he would surely meet an early grave.

Ventus stood and pulled Vanitas to his feet.

"How can you…go with him?" Roxas struggled to get his words out. "He killed Mum and Dad!"

Ventus looked down at him, his expression unperturbed. He knew Roxas would never understand, just as he hadn't, before his awakening.

"This is goodbye, Roxas. I'll make sure someone comes for you."

Ventus reached out to him, not entirely sure on what he'd planned to do, but Roxas used the last of his feeble strength to jerk away from him wildly, his eyes wide and untrusting. Ventus withdrew his hand and couldn't help the small feeling of hurt that squeezed at his heart. Well, it wasn't like he didn't understand. He wasn't like his little brother anymore. It was only natural that Roxas would fear him.

With one last, long look, Roxas' confused, anxious face burned into his memories, Ventus followed Vanitas out of the living room and out of his parent's home.

He found moving was another thing he was finding immensely enjoyable. The world whirled passed them as they flitted along the street, Ventus keeping close to Vanitas' retreating form, their hands clasped tightly together. Wary of their heavily stained clothes, Ventus stopped on a darkened street and called Roxas an ambulance from a payphone. Seconds later Vanitas was pulling him deeper into the dark of the night.

A whole two suburbs away, Roxas, exhausted and broken, finally lost consciousness, right when the heavily boiling pot of pasta sauce on the stove bubbled over onto the gas elements.

By the time the ambulance arrived the entire house was engulfed in flames.


	4. Epilogue - Starting Again

**A/N:** Thanks for all the reviews and faves, guys! I had a lot of fun writing this story, so I'm glad you all enjoyed it too. Credit goes to Virdi-avis for giving me the idea of going into more depth with Vanitas' backstory and his hunters, so due to the length (and me running away with that idea) this is the epilogue, and the next part will be posted separately.

This chapter is just over 9000 words long…so grab yourself a drink (and possibly a cat), and get comfortable.

* * *

 **Epilogue: 15 Years Later.**

 **Starting Again.**

Even after all these years, the memories of that night never seemed to stray far from Roxas' thoughts. Although they were mercifully faded now, he sometimes found himself getting lost in them – certain fragments and dialogue repeating over and over inside his head. Without fail, he faintly relived every spike of fear that had raced up his spine – every whimper of pain that had surged past his lips.

He told himself he should have known that something wasn't right the minute he'd walked into his parent's kitchen to find his older brother's boyfriend cutting up bunches of herbs with his mother. His brother in question was nowhere in sight.

He'd told himself it was just his imagination though, as his mother was happy and relaxed – completely carefree, and he'd foolishly pushed down his feelings of unease. Even if he'd known what was to come, he'd asked himself countless times – what could he have done to stop it anyway? He'd been powerless against the machinations of that heartless monster.

Lareen had been chopping up a handful of carrots when he'd arrived but as soon as she turned and saw him, she'd wiped her dainty hands on a nearby tea towel and come over to greet him. He'd only returned her welcoming hug distractedly, his eyes still glued to Vanitas' back. If he'd known that would be the last time he would hold her close, he would never have let her go.

There was just something about Vanitas that was _wrong._ He didn't like the man one bit. He remembered his mother had been excited; gushing over Vanitas' _'marvellous'_ cooking skills and how she was teaching him one of their family's favourite pasta sauces.

Vanitas had turned with a smile on his face, and the hairs on the back of his neck had stood on end. He had his hands resting on his mother's shoulders, her happy face still gazing up at him, but he was still looking at the unwelcome man standing over by the kitchen bench. He did not return Vanitas' smile.

 _"Where's Ventus?"_ He'd questioned, Vanitas' fingers twitching minutely on the handle of the knife he was holding. _"He'll be along shortly. He got called into work this morning."_ Roxas had huffed out a breath and averted his eyes. Of course Vanitas' excuse was plausible, but he didn't believe it. This man barely knew them, why would he arrive on his own?

Vanitas' smile quirked and his eyebrows had lowered minutely. Roxas could tell Vanitas _knew_ he didn't like him, but he didn't care what the dark haired creeper thought. He'd get through to Ventus eventually, and then they would never have to see the unsettling man again.

Sometimes he'd lie awake at night, Xion sleeping soundly against his chest; his fingers tangled deep within her silky, black hair, and recall the unnerving glint he'd seen in Vanitas' eyes, the man's hand twitching on the handle of the knife. Xion would shift against him, and his hold on her would tighten.

He'd tell himself for the umpteenth time – _If only I'd known._

He'd left the room for all of five minutes – _five minutes,_ his mother asking him to head up to the study and see if his father needed help coming down the stairs. Eraqus was getting weaker by the day, and Roxas knew his father didn't have much time left. These thoughts had dogged him as he'd stepped into the study and immediately pulled the older man into a tight embrace. Eraqus had chuckled in surprise, but had hugged him back just as hard. He'd been going over some business reports for Lareen, papers and ledgers strewn over his office desk. He had one more to go through and then he'd make his way down to join them. Ever so independent, even as his illness continued to cripple him, Roxas had respected his father's wishes to try and navigate the stairs on his own. He'd returned downstairs, the last words he ever spoke to his father being, _"If you change your mind, just let me know. I'll come and give you a hand,"_ when really, what they should've been was – _"I love you."_

His mother and Vanitas were no longer in the kitchen, but he thought they couldn't have gone far, what with the preparations for dinner still underway. He walked past the pasta sauce bubbling away on the stove, and stepped into the dining room, only to find himself freezing in the doorway. His mother had been setting the table, a stack of dinner plates and cutlery were placed ready on one side.

At first he'd thought Vanitas was simply hugging his mother, the man's back turned towards the doorway as he hunched over the smaller woman, his arms wrapped tight around her. Roxas's heart had started racing as soon as he'd seen she wasn't returning the embrace at all, her fingers shaking and twitching down by her sides. Lareen had gasped audibly and Vanitas released her. The man had turned slowly to face him, and what he saw next made his lungs seize hard against his ribs.

There was blood running down one side of his mother's neck from two small, gaping holes. Her eyes were glazed and far away, a confused expression gracing her abnormally pale face.

 _"Oh…I suddenly don't feel so well,"_ she'd murmured, Vanitas grinning over at Roxas with his sharpened teeth gleaming a grotesque, vivid red as he'd steered his mother into a nearby chair. Roxas had instinctively stepped forward, his panic rising tenfold. _"What…What are you doing!?"_

Vanitas had breathed out a laugh and suddenly, Roxas found himself crushed violently into the wall behind him, the breath he'd been holding bursting out of him in an almighty whoosh as the other man pressed in hard. Then there was pain – _so much pain,_ as Vanitas all but slammed his razor sharp teeth into the side of his neck. Instantly, a scream had ripped its way up his throat, but the monster had slipped a hand over his mouth, clamping down hard and stifling his terror. His panicked brain was telling him this couldn't be real, that this couldn't be happening – _they_ weren't supposed to exist! Supernatural beings with human skin and faces – fictional monsters only found in horror films – monsters who fed on human blood…

 _Vanitas was a Vampire._

Over the monster's shoulder he could just see his mother starring wide eyed, one of her hands pressed to the weeping bite mark on her neck. _"Oh…oh no…"_ she was gasping, tears sliding down her cheeks. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her quietly panicked expression and he couldn't break free, Vanitas mercilessly pinning him hard into the wall, one of the monster's cold hands still tightly covering his mouth. Roxas had felt himself growing weaker as his blood was slowly drained; the vile sounds and sensation of Vanitas drinking his blood making him feel sick to his stomach.

" _Our Father who art in heaven…hallowed be thy name…"_

Lareen's feeble voice had just managed to reach him through the thick fog that was slowly blanketing his mind. She sounded so weak, The Lord's Prayer slightly garbled through her gasping breaths.

" _Thy kingdom come…thy will…be done…as it is in heaven…"_

Roxas had heard Vanitas growl deep within his throat, his anger apparent at Lareen's desperate, halting prayer. His teeth had torn at Roxas' flesh again; the monster's suddenly unnaturally sharp fingernails raking furiously down his right arm. He'd squeezed his eyes shut and screamed again, his panic and terror once again muffled by Vanitas' hand before, suddenly and quite unexpectedly, he'd felt himself being released. His legs were boneless beneath him as he slid down the wall, blood trickling down his neck, and soaking warm and wet into his shirt and jeans.

" _Give us this day…our daily bread…!"_

He'd watched on helplessly, unable to look away, as Vanitas had stalked back over towards his mother, the still pointed fingertips of one of the monster's hands stained and dripping menacingly with Roxas' own blood.

His mother had stared desperately up at the man now looming over her, her voice rising with her growing terror.

" _Forgive us, our trespasses…!"_

Vanitas had not even paused as he snatched at her hair and harshly wreathed her head upwards. He sunk his bloodied, clawed fingernails into the flesh of her frail neck, instantly tearing her throat wide open. Lareen had choked and gurgled – rich, crimson blood spurting out all over her front, her eyes clouded in her disbelief and shock as she dragged her gaze over to Roxas one last time.

" _Oh, God…no…!"_ Roxas cried, his stomach heaving from the sight, even as he'd shakily tried pulling himself across the floor towards her, his eyes frozen on her now unresponsive features. He always remembered vividly how her mouth had hung open in a silent cry, her cheeks still glistening with her tears as she finally went deathly still.

There was a click of a tongue and the monster was standing directly in front of him sprawled across the floor, saying – _"Oh, don't you start, too."_ He'd just managed to find the strength to crane his neck upwards and look at Vanitas' face, the monster's expression one of mild irritation. He hadn't had time to dwell on it then, but Roxas realised now that it had looked like Vanitas had simply found the whole sinister task of murdering his mother as something as tedious and tiresome as taking out the trash.

Vanitas had stooped down and grabbed at his arm, Roxas instinctively cowering away, his panic rapidly spiking. _"Why are you doing this!?"_ He'd burst out, the stronger man effortlessly dragging him to his feet, those wickedly sharp fingernails once again tearing along his arms.

He was pulled into the living room by the front of his shirt, his legs feeling like lead, and his feet dragging and stumbling against the carpet. _"It's nothing personal,"_ the monster had replied, _"You're just in the way."_ Roxas had tried to fight, had uselessly scratched at the man's arms and clothes – whatever he could reach, but he was too weak and Vanitas was _much,_ much too strong.

He was carelessly thrown onto a nearby couch, his head nauseously swimming, and the room spinning around him.

And then that's when his father had called for his assistance from upstairs.

Choking down a whimper of pain, Roxas had tried to answer, but all he could do was _breathe._ Little lights had started bursting in front of his eyes.

He could vaguely make out Vanitas looking down at him – a cruel, patronising smirk twisting his lips. A large, cold hand had landed on the top of his head as the monster sardonically ruffled his spikes.

 _"You be a good little boy now…"_

Vanitas had turned away from him, already calling out to answer the unsuspecting man upstairs. _"I'll help you, Eraqus, just wait there!"_

Roxas had tried to yell out a warning, but had only been able to watch as the monster calmly walked out of the living room, heading back towards the hallway and stairs. He'd tried to _will_ himself to get up from the couch and follow – call out, scream – _anything!_ But he couldn't move at all, his heart jolting painfully as waves of nausea crashed over him relentlessly. He'd lost too much blood, the gaping wounds on his neck and shoulder, and the deep, jagged cuts on his arms throbbing with every stricken beat. His blood had not stopped flowing in the slightest.

The whole house was silent, save for his quiet sobs, his entire body wracked with pain. He'd struggled against unconsciousness, just barely making out Vanitas' heavy foot falls climbing the wooden stairs. He'd given in to his despair. He hadn't been able to save his mother…and he was too weak to rescue his dad, and – _Oh, God –_ Ventus was coming!

Vanitas would kill him too!

It was all too much, and he'd been fading in and out of conscious for what felt like hours, the lights exploding in front of his eyes blinded him as the pain completely obliterated every other thought.

The next thing he remembered was being jerked back into full consciousness by Ventus' heart-wrenching scream. He'd managed to feebly call out then, but Ventus hadn't heard him – had completely bypassed the living room where Roxas was incapacitated, and run up the stairs in a blind panic, their father's name being stuttered out brokenly before complete and utter silence.

Then…he could hear his brother crying.

Roxas steeled himself, took in as much of a breath as he was able and called out again. He had to tell Ventus to run – to get away! He had no idea where Vanitas had gone but if he hadn't found Ventus yet then maybe there was still a chance!

In hindsight, it was an exercise in futility. Vanitas had been after Ventus all along; their parents and himself nothing more than a simple hindrance to what the monster truly wanted…

Fifteen years had passed since the events of that horrific night, but sometimes the nightmares still succeeded in jolting him awake. They were always worse in the winter, when the dark hours were long and cold.

He knew without a doubt, that even if he lived for a thousand more years, the memories of his mother and father, and the brother that he had so tragically lost would always torment him.

Ventus had sacrificed himself to save him, only to turn around and nearly kill him, himself. An unnatural _, inhuman_ change had stolen away the kind, wonderful brother, Roxas had been so familiar with, and in his place, a cruel, calculating monster had been born.

In his nightmares he saw Vanitas' face, the monster's eyes glowing in the darkness, his lips twisted into that cruel smirk. He heard his mother gasping The Lord's Prayer – saw the blood gurgling out of her torn throat, and bubbling over her pale lips…

He'd never known how his father had met his end…and he still wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

And Ventus…

The haunting memories of his brother were the ones that always chased him into the early hours of the morning – shocked him into wakefulness, gasping brokenly for air. Ventus' screams would ring anew through his ears, the image of Ventus' contorted, twisted body writhing in agony on their parent's living room floor burned permanently into his retinas.

But the _worst_ memories – the ones that awoke him and left him a heaving, sobbing mess were those of his loving brother's cold, _cold_ blue eyes boring hungrily into his own. The feel of his brother's sharpened teeth scraping slowly along the skin of his neck – the cold touch of Ventus' lips so longingly pressed into his. Xion would always hold him; rock him back and forth like a newborn child, her small, warm hand carding through his hair until she felt his panic attack subsiding.

She'd been on shift that night they'd brought him into the hospital. She worked in a different ward to emergency cases, but once Roxas had abruptly stopped answering her text messages, and she'd caught snippets of gossip in the break room, she had instantly put two and two together, and nothing had kept her from going to him.

The fire that ravaged his childhood home had miraculously left Roxas all but untouched. He'd been rushed into Emergency with haemorrhagic shock and smoke inhalation, the ER doctors immediately administering several blood transfusions, hoping against all hopes that it would bring him back from the brink.

He'd survived – _barely._

Xion had been there when he'd woken up, she'd been there when the police had come with their invasive questioning, and she'd been there when the fireman that had physically pulled Roxas out of the inferno had come to see if he'd made it out okay. The fireman's name was Axel, and on seeing Roxas, looking small and pale in his hospital bed, the tall redhead had crushed Roxas' hand in between his own, and _cried_ because he'd never been so frightened for someone in his life. After that they had become close friends, but even after so many years of friendship, Axel had never once asked Roxas about the sad, mysterious circumstances that had nearly killed him. And Roxas had never told him. It was something that he couldn't bear to revisit – ever.

The first couple of years had been brutal. Initially, Roxas hadn't told a soul about what had happened that night – even the police, who had deduced from the autopsy of his father's charred remains that the man had been dead long before the fire had ever reached him. Roxas had been evasive about the odd wounds to his body as well, not to mention the disappearance of his older brother, who the police were unable to locate anywhere, despite Ventus' car being parked in the driveway of their parent's home. They caught Roxas out on several lies before coming to the only logical conclusion that Ventus was in fact the culprit.

When they had approached Roxas about their suspicions, while he was still thoroughly traumatised in the hospital, he had flown into such a wild, incoherent rage that he had to be sedated. He swore black and blue that Ventus had not done this to him, and with no solid leads and no charges to press, the police could only begrudgingly believe him.

Then various media outlets began showing up, all hoping to interview and wrangle a few more answers out of him – _The Green Family Murders_ being the hottest, most talked about mystery quivering on the townspeople's lips. Even a private investigator had shown up one day, his long hair a strange blue colour, and a large, misshapen 'X' slashed across the bridge of his nose. He'd asked some very strange questions which Roxas had been careful to ignore. Xion had shooed him out, just like all the rest of them. Roxas had never told her, but somehow he had just _known._ The blue haired man had been one of _them._

Roxas spent a lot of time in hospital, spent a lot of time with a lot of different psychologists. His nightmares were violent and disturbing; he barely ate and only drank liquids when it was forced upon him. He eventually lost all will to live, his brother's supposed heroism of saving his life feeling more and more like a curse as the days endlessly flew past him.

Xion moved into his apartment and he tried for her sake, he really did, but he just couldn't see a light at the end of the tunnel anymore. He'd strung a rope up around the rafters in the garage and had breathed a long sigh of relief when he'd coiled its looped end around his neck and effortlessly kicked the chair out from under him. He had no idea how long he'd hung there before Xion had unexpectedly returned home to retrieve a text book and found him like that.

He'd come to, to find her sitting on his chest slapping him repeatedly in the face. Over and over, she smacked him, tears streaming down her cheeks and soaking into his shirt, gut-wrenching sobs wracking her small frame. She'd kept on hitting him, even after he'd gained consciousness, and she hadn't stopped until there were dark bruises along his cheekbones and round the bridge of his nose.

 _"Don't leave me,"_ she'd gasped again and again, her blows continuing to rain down on him, until finally he'd managed to sit up and pull her into a rough embrace, his swollen face buried in the crook of her neck. It was like waking up from a dream. Xion had managed to pull him from the darkness that had swallowed him whole. He couldn't change what had happened to him – what had happened to his family, but he finally realised he shouldn't let the life Ventus had sacrificed for him go to waste.

Things got better after that – a lot better. He went to regular counselling for years and finally, _finally_ told Xion about everything that had happened that night. She was the only one who knew the truth – the only one who wouldn't think him insane for believing a monster had slaughtered his parents and spirited away his brother. He'd salvaged nothing but photographs from the burned out shell of his parent's house, and he and Xion moved nearly a world away from their home town, where no one knew them, especially nothing about Roxas' infamous past. He started working at a local hospital again, the regular work good for him, and good for his soul.

Beautiful Xion was his saviour, his figurative light at the end of a seemingly endless tunnel. They bought a house together, and when Roxas turned 21 and Xion 22, they got married in a field full of cornflowers, with their closest circle of friends as their witnesses. The love that they shared for each other finally chased away the darkness that had plagued the beginning of their relationship.

At 26, Xion brought two, perfectly healthy, twin girls into the world – Namine and Kairi. When Roxas had cradled the two, baby girls in his arms for the first time, and gazed down in quiet awe at their beautiful, innocent faces – that's when he'd begun to believe in God again.

Now feeling considerably a lot more thankful for being alive, Roxas was 33 years old, and the new life he had created with Xion and his two girls had never felt so complete. Xion worked full time at the local hospital, Roxas opting to only work part time so he could take care of the girl's upbringing.

Roxas had never pictured himself becoming a stay-at-dad, but it was an arrangement that had always worked best for them. He was occasionally still prone to sudden bouts of social anxiety, had a justified reason for not trusting new people, and the nightmares that never quite stopped, continued to plague his sleeping patterns. Overall, these were things that no longer largely affected his life in a sense, but some days he just didn't feel like leaving the house.

He'd spent an unhealthy amount of time devoted to researching Vampires – racing through a plethora of books, be they fiction or nonfiction, watching every film he could get his hands on, too, and of course the internet had supplied him with a vast, endless wealth of information, all easily accessible, right at his fingertips. He'd devoured any little bit of information he'd stumbled across, taking it all in with an open mind, and knowing that not everything he would find would be the truth. From the limited interaction he could remember with Vanitas and Ventus, he knew that at least some of what he'd learned seemed to be true…

He'd shied away from purchasing a house that was too far from neighbouring properties – the idea of being isolated and vulnerable unnerving to him. They had eventually chosen an appropriate home nestled securely amongst the chaotic, yet quaint lifestyle of suburbia. As soon as they moved in, Roxas enlisted the help of a local priest, and had the home blessed – had also paid a ridiculous amount of money for a large quantity of holy water, which he'd mixed into the house's new top coat of paint. He'd planted thick clumps of garlic under every window, hung a wooden cross on every door. He had no solid evidence that any of these protective measures would deter one of _them_ from hurting his family, but it certainly afforded him some peace of mind, and his renewed faith in the almighty God gave him strength.

Namine and Kairi were both eight years old now, and had only just started to ask increasingly insistent questions about the other young man pictured in the old family photographs that Roxas had salvaged, all those years ago. He had sat them down one evening and spun them a story of their grandparents losing their lives in a fire, their Uncle Ventus perishing along with them. Maybe when they were older, Roxas would entertain the idea of telling them the truth, but for now this was all they needed, to satisfy their curiosity.

He thought about it often, but he knew in his heart that he had lost all hope of ever seeing his brother again. Sometimes he felt sad and conflicted when he thought of Ventus, recalling how he had so easily left with the man that had callously murdered their parents. He would never understand, and sometimes it would make him feel bitter and angry, but most of the time he just wondered. Where was Ventus now? What was he doing with his life, now that he was supposedly an immortal? They were questions he had resigned himself to never knowing the answers to.

-0-

It was turning out to be another beautiful summer afternoon and Roxas had finally worked up the enthusiasm to get stuck into the hedges in the front garden. The rows of leafy, green buxus encircling the lawn wasn't overly shaggy, but it definitely warranted getting out the electric hedge trimmers instead of the clunky pruning shears he usually ended up using.

Shutting off the trimmers and swinging them down by his side, Roxas wiped his forearm across his brow, a few beads of sweat escaping and slipping down the side of his face. He hadn't worked today and had spent the majority of his time outside. Kairi and Namine were also home already from school, laughing and playing happily as they jumped on the trampoline. Roxas stood for a few moments, taking a break and just watching as the girls clasped their hands tightly between them and jumped in unison, their navy blue, pleated uniform skirts fluttering prettily in the breeze. He looked up to the sky, watching the cirrus clouds sweep along slowly, the sudden afternoon breeze bringing along with it a much appreciated shift in temperature. It had been particularly hot today, but as the sun was now lingering lazily along the horizon, he was finally feeling some relief from the heat.

Laying the hedge trimmers down on the grass at his bare feet, Roxas pushed his hair back from his forehead and headed back over to the front porch where his water bottle was keeping cool in the shade. He flumped down onto the small set of steps and took a long drink, his other hand pulling at the collar of his shirt. It stuck to him in some places, the heat of the day being ridiculously humid. Perhaps a storm was coming? He hadn't managed to get all the hedging finished, but he was well and truly ready to call it a day. Xion would be home from work any minute now, and then they would make dinner together. He would call the girls in, too…they knew he hated them being outside past sunset.

He took another long drink and just closed his eyes, savouring the quiet, peaceful sounds of the surrounding neighbourhood. There were shouts and laughter from Namine and Kairi, and then far off in the distance, he could make out the exuberant barking of a dog. Just outside his front gate there was the cheerful chatter of wagtails, and the wind whispered softly through the nearby trees. It was all so blissfully familiar and comforting. He sighed with content. He loved this place and the normalcy it brought to his life.

He heard Namine laugh loudly again and he smiled, the wind still rustling quietly through the trees.

But then something suddenly changed.

The birds had stopped singing.

Confused, Roxas frowned and lowered the water bottle. He looked out towards the street. His blue eyes swept along the border of his garden fence and all along what he could see of the sidewalk outside, but there was nothing there. He shifted slightly – felt strangely uneasy. The noticeable silence of the birds didn't seem normal at all. He nervously looked over towards his two girls on the trampoline, but found them both as happy as ever. Something made him pause though – a familiar feeling of disquiet, and he was instantly reminded of his mother. That time, she hadn't noticed anything out of the usual either…and he'd ignored his gut feeling, but he'd be damned if he would ever ignore it a second time!

The sun was hanging lower in the sky now as twilight began to set in. The temperature was rapidly dropping. Roxas shivered.

He braced his hands against his knees and pushed himself upright, his attention still solely focussed on his daughters. He was intent on calling them inside when out of the corner of his eye he caught movement.

Someone was standing in front of the garden gate.

Roxas' eyes snapped around, his water bottle slipping through his fingers.

Golden hair – blue, _blue_ eyes – a boyish face, and a curve of a painfully nostalgic smile.

 _It couldn't be…_

Roxas blinked, not quite believing what he was seeing. He shuddered in a breath, and then suddenly the young man before him was no longer standing outside on the sidewalk. _He blinked_ and _he_ was _inside,_ walking up Roxas' garden path as if he'd done so countless times before – as if suddenly appearing here wasn't completely and inexplicably out of the blue.

" _Ven…Ventus?"_ Roxas heard himself gasp. "Is it really _you?"_

Ventus stopped a few meters short of where Roxas stood on the top step of the porch, a small smile still gracing his lips.

"It's been a long time."

His older brother didn't look like he'd aged a single day since Roxas had last seen him. He felt inexplicably self-conscious and strange, knowing that he now looked the older of the two – Ventus wouldn't be able to help noticing how much his younger brother had changed over the years in comparison. Roxas knew he was a little bit taller, his blond hair cut a lot shorter, and the stubble on his chin was just starting to turn white around the edges. Ventus was eternally young – his mortality frozen at 26.

A dry sob threatened to work its way up Roxas' throat but he stifled it, his face twisting with so many warring emotions as his eyes slid hurriedly over the brother he had always thought lost to him. He could see subtle differences in Ventus' appearance the longer he looked, his skin was so pale, and the way he held himself seemed more composed – Roxas would go so far as to describe him as almost _ethereal_. His hair was styled and swept to the side, exactly how it always used to be, but his eyes…they were what had changed the most. Roxas felt a spike of dread drive its way deep into his heart. He found no trace of his older brother's usual warmth there; now completely lost in those cold, blue depths.

As his rampant emotions had assailed him, Roxas had taken a shaky step towards Ventus, but now – now his expression hardened. How quickly he had begun to lose himself – to lose sight completely, of what his brother had become. He was suddenly afraid, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he squared his shoulders, his eyes flicking minutely over towards the electric hedge trimmers lying off to the side, then over to Namine and Kairi, who were still playing unaware.

"What are you doing here, Ventus?"

The corner of Ventus' lips quirked into a wry smile, and the coldness in his eyes seemed to swirl and coalesce before his gaze followed Roxas' line of sight, over towards the two young girls still laughing and cavorting on the trampoline.

"I wanted to see you," Ventus replied softly, the breeze ruffling at his hair as his eyes flicked back over to Roxas. The reasoning behind his answer was ambiguous at best.

"That doesn't explain why, after all this time you're suddenly standing on my doorstep. What are you _really_ doing here? How did you find me?" Roxas was not convinced. He slipped a hand into the back pocket of his jeans, his fingers closing tightly around the small switchblade he kept on his person at all times. He'd had it custom made – the blade made of pure silver, and the smooth wooden handle inscribed with the holy book's _Psalm 23._ He soaked it in a bowl full of holy water every day without fail. He only had myths and legends to go on, but he'd always believed that there must be some truth to it all…his faith would not fail him now.

Ventus didn't answer right away, his brilliant blue eyes tracking the movements of Roxas' hand.

"Can I come in?"

Roxas' eyes narrowed dangerously, his expression instantly turning thunderous. How dare this _monster_ wearing his beloved brother's face even _attempt_ to enter his home – as if after everything he'd been put through he wouldn't know that vampire's needed permission first!

He didn't even hesitate. "No."

Ventus breathed out a small laugh and looked away, his expression deceptively wistful, and his smile seeming sad. "Good. I'm glad you understand that much, at least."

"Where's… _him?_ " Roxas spat, Ventus' casual façade not mollifying his anger in the slightest. Sudden alarm settled into the pit of his stomach, his eyes rapidly searching all around them, and out to the street beyond. It foolishly hadn't occurred to him until now – that if Ventus was here, then _Vanitas would be, too._

"…I asked him not to come. I didn't want to upset you more than I already am." Ventus murmured quietly, his eyes once again meeting Roxas' guarded blues.

The man he had once called brother really did look genuinely sad, and Roxas wondered if he was being a fool in letting down his guard. This wasn't fair. He felt so conflicted, his hand clenching tightly around the switchblade even as he felt his resolve wavering. He had no reason to believe Ventus – had _all_ the reason to believe that the vampire was only here to hurt him and his family…but he just knew in his heart that it wasn't true.

Despite their past, despite the horrors that had happened between them, and the fact that Ventus was no longer human, Roxas wanted – no he _needed_ to trust Ventus so badly...and maybe he was being naïve, but this was still the older brother he had loved and missed, with all of his heart.

Roxas swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak. Still feeling largely apprehensive, he was just finding his words when Xion's blue Hyundai pulled into the driveway. She was home on time – the sun's lingering rays splashing light pinks, oranges and purples all across the darkening sky.

She was stepping out of the driver's side now and slamming the door closed, a welcoming smile lighting up her pretty face. She was still in her nursing uniform, one hand lightly clasping the strap of her tote bag that was slung over her shoulder. Roxas suddenly felt nauseous. Xion knew everything there was to know about his traumatic past – had seen firsthand what Roxas had suffered through in the aftermath, and she would not take kindly to Ventus unexpectedly showing up at their home. This situation had serious potential to turn ugly _very_ quickly.

He vaguely noted Ventus watching Xion's approach with a casual interest, but he pushed down his persistent misgivings about his brother and his motives, and rushed down the porch steps to meet his wife halfway.

"I'm _home,_ " Xion called in a singsong voice, Roxas successfully managing to keep her attention focussed on him for one brief moment as his hands firmly squeezed at her shoulders.

"Xion –" He began but she was already craning her neck to see over his shoulder at the man standing behind him.

"Who…?" He watched her eyes widen in recognition, the words dying in her throat.

" _You…"_ Xion was struggling against him now – was attempting to push herself in front of him, while her eyes never left Ventus' face. The fingers of her right hand were already frantically scrabbling around inside of her tote bag. Roxas knew what she was searching for. "Xion – wait."

"You need to leave – _right now,_ " Xion breathed, her tone of voice strained, but defiantly holding strong. She was still fighting to get around Roxas, but he was determined to keep himself firmly between her, and his estranged brother. He had never once doubted that she would willingly die to protect him and their daughters – that she would defend the ones dearest to her at all costs – especially when she _knew_ the blond haired, blue eyed stranger in front of her was actually an unpredictable, inhuman monster.

Ventus, for his part, said nothing, but he was no longer smiling. All of his focus was now trained solely on the confines of Xion's bag. She finally managed to retrieve what she was searching for and swiftly held it out in front of them both – a small leather bound Bible with a wooden cross set deep within its cover. She brandished the Bible at Ventus. " _How dare you_ – after all this time!"

Ventus' eyes narrowed and he all but _glared_ at the little holy book held within Xion's small hand. His lips curled in obvious disgust, but he still stood his ground – his feet only shifting warily in place.

Roxas roughly pulled at Xion's shoulders again, and manoeuvred her more fully behind him, pushing his face directly in front of hers.

" _Xion_ – look at _me._ " A small shake to her slender frame and he had effectively recaptured her attention. He needed this to stop from escalating further. Namine and Kairi were still playing over on the trampoline, completely oblivious. They didn't need to see this – they were too young to understand. He took a deep breath, gazing hard into his wife's wild eyes, "I'm going to talk to him, and then he's going to _leave,_ and _never_ come back."

Xion frowned, her expression turning pained. "But…" She looked back over to Ventus, the steel instantly returning to her voice.

"Haven't you and that – _that man_ done _enough_ to him? Do you have _any idea_ what he went through –" She pressed one of her hands hard against her chest. "What _we_ went through?"

The harsh truth of Xion's words struck a chord deep within Roxas' heart, the pain and sadness of this entire situation rapidly threatening to overwhelm him. He had to stay in control. Gently lifting his hands to her face, Roxas cradled Xion's cheeks within his palms, and turned her away to face him again. "It'll be okay…" He murmured. "I need you to trust me on this…"

" _Mummy!"_

A sudden shout carrying over to them from across the lawn made Roxas' fingers twitch against Xion's skin, their attention abruptly drawn over to their two young daughters. Namine and Kairi had clambered off the trampoline and were already running towards them, their laughter loud and carefree as they waved their arms about in joy at finding their mother returned home.

Ventus still hadn't moved an inch, his expression now cautious and guarded. His eyes lingered on the leather bible held lax within Xion's hand for a second longer before bypassing her completely and lifting to Roxas' face. They stared at each other silently. Roxas' decision was made.

Drawing Xion's attention back to him, Roxas spoke quickly, but quietly.

"The girls are coming. I need you to take them inside and _be safe_." He chanced another glance over at Ventus before once more looking deep into his wife's stormy, blue eyes. "He's…He's not here to hurt us _._ "

Xion lifted her free hand and pressed it over one of Roxas' own that was still gently caressing her face. She shook her head slowly, angry tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "…He's not the brother you once knew, Roxas."

His eyes were sad as he leant down and kissed her firmly on the lips, his hands dropping to the slight curves of her chin and neck. "I know he isn't, but you have to trust me. I want to speak to him alone, but what I _really_ need right now, is for you and our daughters, to be safe inside our home. _Please,_ Xi'?"

There was a tense second longer where Xion gazed up into his eyes, her frustration and worry colouring her beautiful features, but finally she gave him a shaky nod in understanding, her lips set into a hard, thin line.

Completely unaware of the monster currently within their midst, Namine and Kairi ran straight passed Ventus and into their mother's legs; their little hands clutching at her shirt and pants as they hugged her tightly. While their faces were still pressed into her clothes, Xion painstakingly re-schooled her features into a faux, happy expression. She pressed the little bible into Roxas' hand wordlessly before wrapping both of her arms around her daughters in return.

"Come on, girls – inside," she spoke breathlessly, Roxas finding her forced smile almost painful to witness. "I've got a surprise for you both, tonight – I'm gonna make your favourite – chocolate pudding!"

Instantly excited at the mention of their favourite dessert, Namine and Kairi both whooped with delight, their eyes turning up to meet with their mothers'; identical grins of joy dimpling their cheeks.

"Yayyy!" Kairi cried.

"I _love_ chocolate pudding!" Namine beamed.

Keeping her brave smile firmly in place, Xion immediately began steering the two girls towards the steps of the front porch, Roxas and Ventus silently watching. The girls settled on either side of their mother comfortably, her arms still wrapped protectively around their petite shoulders.

Namine suddenly turned within her mother's hold, and looked back at her father and Ventus. Her eyes were alight with curiosity.

"Mummy, who is that man?" Kairi, who had been chattering away about her day at school, instantly turned to look, too, her attention drawn back behind them as well, even as Xion kept encouraging them up the steps and towards the front door.

"Yeah, who is he?" Kairi questioned, "…He looks just like Uncle –"

"No girls," Xion swiftly cut Kairi off. "That's just a friend of Daddy's. He's leaving now, but you can meet him another time."

Kairi shrugged and turned back around towards the front door, easily accepting her mother's words, and started chattering about school again. Namine however, still looked behind them silently; her pale blue eyes never leaving Ventus.

"Inside, inside! It's starting to get dark. That pudding's not going to make itself, you know?" Xion sang cheerfully, finally pulling the door open, and ushering the girls inside.

"Can I lick the spoon?" Roxas heard Kairi shout enthusiastically from just inside the entryway.

"Of course you can," Xion answered, and then finally, the door snapped shut behind them.

Silence reigned for a long moment, a heavy, sombre mood settling over the two remaining occupants of the garden.

Roxas looked off to the side, still gazing after his family, his fingers idly playing with the leather cover of Xion's bible. He could feel Ventus looking at him and _God,_ he was just _so tired_ of this entire situation. In the space of a single afternoon, Ventus had waltzed back into his happy, peaceful life, and completely destroyed the calm he had found here. If Roxas hadn't still been feeling majorly apprehensive about his long lost, _vampiric_ brother suddenly showing up on his doorstep, he would have felt thoroughly annoyed.

The sun had all but set now, the last of its light fading below the horizon. Stars were beginning to blink softly above them, the cool summer breeze still flowing around them and swirling through their hair.

"Your daughters?"

Roxas breathed out a sigh, and turned back to face Ventus properly. He still couldn't quite manage looking the other man in the eyes.

"Yeah. Namine and Kairi."

He realised Ventus was encouraging him to speak about something he found safe and familiar, but he didn't feel the need, nor want to elaborate. Looking the bible over one last time, he slid the little book into the back pocket of his jeans.

"I…I had to tell them, that you were dead. That you died in the fire that killed their grandparents…" He shook his head forlornly, finally looking straight into Ventus' eyes.

"It's been 15 years… _why now, Ventus?_ You told me you were no longer my brother – so why seek me out like this? _What do you want?_ "

Ventus' eyes gleamed softly in the half light, his solemn expression mirroring Roxas'.

"Despite what I am, and the things I've done, I've never been able to completely shake the vestiges of my humanity. I have no desire to encroach on the peace you have found here." Ventus paused and looked away briefly before finding Roxas' intent gaze again. "I just…wanted to see you. To see your life. I can't help what I've become, but I would _never_ harm you or your family, Roxas. Please, believe me."

Roxas' heart throbbed a pained, mournful beat hard within his chest. He wanted to believe Ventus _so much,_ but at the same time he didn't want to at all. A brief, horrific memory of Vanitas' cruel smile rose unbidden to the forefront of his mind – the ghostly sensation of Ventus' sharpened teeth dragged along his neck. He shuddered slightly and looked away, his inner turmoil written clear across his face.

Ventus was speaking again, his voice carrying clearly over the soft sounds of the persistent wind.

"I only come now, because it's the first time I've been able to, without endangering your life. Vanitas and I, have won a hard battle, and now finally we have the freedom to live peacefully…" His expression hardened. "However, given the chance, there are still many of my kind that will seek to harm you or your young family."

He looked over at Roxas' house, his eyes glancing over the wooden cross adorning the front door and the thick clumps of garlic bordering the windows. His gaze fell upon Roxas again, a sardonic smile pulling at his lips. "The garlic by the windows will only deter the very weakest, and although I can see that you and your wife's faith is strong – to an immortal as strong as I – faith can only do so much. Fear and doubt can easily weaken the strongest of resolves."

Roxas drew in a sharp breath and clenched his fists at his sides. He stared down at his feet, feeling completely and utterly helpless. If what Ventus was saying was true, then everything he'd done up until now in protecting his family had all been in vain…

"And that is why…I've come to give you something."

Roxas' eyes were wide as he looked back up to find Ventus standing with his arm outstretched in front of him. A small, black box was resting in the palm of his hand. Without a word, Roxas slowly moved forward a step and hesitantly took it.

Ventus' smile was reassuring as Roxas pried open the stiff, cardboard lid of the box and cautiously peered inside. He paused for a second longer before reaching in with his thumb and index finger, and gingerly lifted out the small, glass vial which appeared to be full of a dark, unknown liquid. As he continued to look at it curiously, the dim evening light caught along the glass, and Roxas could finally see it for what it was.

Blood.

Instantly, he was furious. "Is this some kind of _twisted joke?_ "

Ventus was completely unfazed. "It's true that amongst my own kind I'm still relatively young, but over these years, Vanitas and I have made a…lasting reputation for ourselves. None of our kind would dare disrespect us." He gestured to the vial of blood still held within Roxas' hand. "Think of this as a 'vaccination' of sorts. I want you and Xion, and your girls to share this amongst you. It won't hurt you or change you in any way, but my blood is powerful and it will meld with yours, and it will protect you from others of my kind. It is the _ultimate_ protection – one that will _never_ weaken."

Roxas was not convinced. "If you think I'm going to drink anything you give me, you're sorely mistaken."

Ventus' stared piercingly into Roxas' eyes, his face only marginally showing his disappointment. He shrugged. "I can't force you, but if you're ever in trouble, my kind will never touch you – so long as my blood runs in your veins. Your children and their children as well, will all be safe."

Roxas stared down at the small vial now resting in the palm of his hand. It sounded too good to be true. He and his family could ingest this minuscule amount of blood, and they would never have to fear vampires again? How did blood hold power anyway? Could such a small amount really be so effective?

He rolled the vial of blood back and worth along the skin of his palm, and wondered what Ventus had been up to for the last fifteen years to have created such an _infamous_ name for himself. Even amongst his own kind, he'd said – amongst _other immortal monsters,_ Ventus was someone who was respected and feared. What _exactly_ had his brother been doing…?

The cool breeze rippled through the fine hairs on the back of his neck and he shivered violently. He decided he really didn't want to know.

"How come you can walk around in the daylight?" Roxas mumbled out instead, his eyes drifting back up to Ventus' now faintly amused expression.

"Most of my kind cannot, but because the power in Vanitas' blood has melded with my own, I'm now one of the strongest immortals there is. Over the years, I've built up a strong resistance to the damaging effects of sunlight…amongst other things." Ventus was undeniably smug in explaining this and Roxas definitely didn't like it – didn't like the arrogant smirk twisting Ventus' features either. The brother he'd known had never even remotely gloated about anything.

Roxas carefully placed the vial of Ventus' blood back inside the small box and securely closed the lid. He was still largely undecided about this _supposedly_ miraculous gift, and it would have to be something he figured out later. Ventus was still grinning in front of him, most likely still lost in his own little ego trip, or perhaps he'd caught Roxas' look of condemnation.

Roxas only continued to frown. "I'll _never_ understand how you can be with him _…_ after what he did to Mum and Dad…after what he did to _you_."

Ventus' smile immediately softened into something whimsical and slightly pensive.

"Vanitas is…everything to me. The one who created me…and the one who loves me." Ventus' deep blue eyes almost seemed to glow in their intensity. "Fate decided that we would be bonded long ago, and if he were to die, then I would die, too. I can't live without him."

Roxas shifted uncomfortably under Ventus' intense scrutiny, his fingers tightening around the little box still held in his hand.

No, he would never, _could never_ understand how Ventus could be in love with the man who had brutally slaughtered their parents. It would never make sense to him, and he found Ventus' sudden shift in demeanour thoroughly unsettling. He could definitely see some aspects to the man in front of him that were still exactly like the Ventus he had grown up with, but without a doubt, he could clearly see there was this other, darker, _colder_ creature, that had all but taken over. Ventus would never again be the big brother that he had loved and admired with every fibre of his being. Roxas felt like his heart was breaking all over again.

"I have to go."

Roxas blinked and opened his eyes to find Ventus so closely in front of him, their feet were nearly touching. Frightened beyond belief, Roxas gasped and instinctively tried to pull himself away, the breath catching in his throat as his panic-filled eyes met the vibrant, unnatural blue of his brothers.

Ventus slid a cold hand down Roxas' cheek, and then settled his grip firmly around his nape, effectively halting Roxas' meagre attempts at escaping their sudden proximity. Roxas tensed, a fine tremor working its way through his body as Ventus slowly applied pressure to the back of his neck and encouraged him to lean down. Oh so gently, Ventus pressed their foreheads together, his cool fingers brushing through Roxas' short blond hair.

"Drink the blood, Roxas. You'll never have to worry about my kind hurting you again," Ventus whispered onto his lips, their shared breaths mingling warm between them.

Roxas couldn't pull away now if he tried, one of his hands shakily moving to grasp at the front of his brother's shirt. Ventus' eyes were mesmerising – drawing him in further, as he watched a myriad of emotions swirling there. Ventus had never looked more sincere.

"I know what I said back then…but I could never bring myself to forget. You'll always be my brother…and I'll always be here to protect you."

Ventus' hand slid away and released him altogether, Roxas staggering in place at the sudden loss of his touch. Ventus was now standing a few steps away from him, watching him calmly with a small smile playing over his lips. The stars twinkled softly above them, the darkness of night having well and truly fallen.

Roxas had never felt so lost in all of his life. Regardless of what Ventus had become, Roxas regrettably still loved him…and would still miss him, _every day_. He knew things could never be as they were, but after so many years apart, the thought of Ventus simply vanishing from his life again just seemed so terribly cruel.

"…Will I see you again?"

Ventus still smiled, the wind curling and playing through his soft blond spikes.

"Only if you want to."

There was another, stronger gust of wind that caught him off guard and Roxas blinked rapidly. He found himself standing alone; the space in front of him where his brother had been mere seconds before was now empty.

Ventus was gone.

"I'll never forget you," Roxas whispered, his voice carrying along the cool summer breeze, and out into the enveloping darkness.

-0-

Later that night, after he had returned inside to his family, and long after Namine and Kairi were tucked up safe in their beds, Roxas lay in his own bed and held Xion warm in his arms and told her everything Ventus had come to share with him…everything except his brother's true purpose in seeking him out.

He'd hidden the little vial of Ventus' blood deep within the confines of his sock drawer, still not entirely sure of what to do with it, but knowing full well that if he were to tell his wife of its existence, it would surely cause a spectacular fight.

He thought about it all night, his fingers sliding soothingly through Xion's silken hair, their arms and legs wrapped tightly around each other as they sought the comfort and intimacy they had always found so easily together. For the first time in a _very_ long time, Roxas woke up feeling refreshed and well rested. His mind was set.

He made his wife, and his two beautiful daughters the perfect breakfast – preparing crispy, hickory smoked bacon, fried tomatoes, hash browns, and eggs cooked sunny side up. He even squeezed fresh orange juice – just enough to fill four tall glasses.

He divided the contents of the small, glass vial between them.

Even if he had ultimately decided to trust Ventus' word, it didn't stop him from feeling an immense, crushing relief when his family displayed no sinister aftereffects of ingesting vampiric blood. He himself felt perfectly fine – in fact, he had never felt happier in all of his life.

What Roxas wouldn't know until much, much later, was that Xion suddenly found studying for her medical degree a lot less tedious, her brain easily retaining more complicated, detailed information. Namine sometimes just _knew_ things about people – things they had never told anyone, and often predicted events long before they ever happened. Kairi could sometimes _feel_ other people's emotions, and look deep into their thoughts; her beautiful blue eyes alight with wisdom beyond her years.

And Roxas…well.

He just simply couldn't wait to see Ventus again.


End file.
